black hole

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Tags:
  • Dark Poetry
    • rthegame2
    • Im on the move and cant be stopped no matter what comes my way

    black hole
    sit and stare with a cold hard gaze
    feeling vunerable and desperate like no help is needed

    eyes wide shut to a blackness filled inside
    grasping for whatever it is that makes us human

    turning round and round for no one knows what is wrong
    no light is their to greet as the darkness only gets darker

    eyes filling with tears of sorrow desperate to meet the end
    as tormented as the soul is why should we question life

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    Poetry is either something that lives like fire inside you or else it is nothing, an empty formalized bore around which pedants can endlessly drone their notes and explanations.

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