Autoportret

Avatar of the_ravende the_raven în Poezii în Engleză 0 comentarii

That pale face, those empty eyes,
They're just a window to a broken soul.
It's not corrupted, no, it's torched,
The pain had burnt it, and ashes fill a boul.
The optimistic dreamer that once lived
Now is a lonely shadow in a fake world.
A world of fear and pain,
Illusioned and masked, from the rotten mold.
Not understood, by faceless crowds
That walk the land,
He tends to keep so close...

Inside his mind, his foolish strugle
Brings him pain, but he does not cry, or does he?
He is not ever heard or seen,
Because nobody's there, for him...
The fires burn in his heart still,
Yet he's forgotten, and so he waits the day,
His body just gives up...
The day when rotting will begin on him,
And he just falls apart.



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