Writing poems is like entering the new world, liberating the soul and allowing the heart to follow imagination, memories, sorrow, joy ...

Dark is the night that came upon me

Misty clouds with no symphony

A breathy sound

Somewhere in behind

Giving me shiver brilliantly.

Is this me undefined?

Or am I just completely blind?

Is my mind gone?

Lost in time?

Is my darkness unconfined?

A fear so sublime

dirt, dust, and grime

On our faces

In our souls

Oh the darkness, oh, so prime!

In our heads empty holes

We are just playing our lifeless roles

A broken hearts

Big sad eyes

Can darkness have noble goals?

But there I see a veil of Sunrise

New hopes and dreams on the horizon flies

No more pain

No more tears

Oh the darkness, the darkness dies.

© 2019 Ksenija