Untitled 2I lie on the sheets, bound to my bed.Untitled 2
No chains on my wrists, they’re all in my head.
Clocks tick away seconds, then hours, then days.
I don’t count their passing, but sleep them away.
No reason to wait, no sense being lost.
This fear is my folly, time is its cost.
I wait for something, for something profound.
Listening intently, I hear not a sound.
Just tireless ticking, the ticking of clocks,
Like the footsteps of Death, coming to knock.
Sunlight is a glow, then a glimmer, then dead.
I star
Choke
| I don't know how to create fantastic works of art. I don't know how to write award-winning poetry. I just do what I do and enjoy it. |
Thank you for the fav, much appreciate it
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My Silent Hill site (french) : [link]
My musics : [link] [link]
My 3D movies : [link] [link]
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*priteeboy - proud founder of ~The Worst Artists on dA club! - take a look, have a laugh
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find me a storm where the wild winds blow.
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No I don't like Alistair Darling but I bloody love his eyebrows.
I appreciate your fave very much.
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There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
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I eat evil for BREAKFAST! And when there's no evil to be had... I just have cereal. Or toast. Neither of which are inherently evil.
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There's always a better poem just out of reach.
Words create situations [link]
The roots of the future run deep [link]
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The dream was always running ahead of me. To catch up, to live for a moment in unison with it, that was the miracle. (Anais Nin)
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