Exhaustion.
Flicking in and out of consciousness,
my lips feel numb.
Usual noises sound bombing loud,
forgetting the time.
I become a melancholy masterpiece,
a sad classical song.
Poetry | Stories | Photography
Exhaustion.
Flicking in and out of consciousness,
my lips feel numb.
Usual noises sound bombing loud,
forgetting the time.
I become a melancholy masterpiece,
a sad classical song.
O’er the mountain and into the sea,
we will meet again just you wait and see.
O’er the hills and down into the lake,
we will meet again and memories we’ll make.
O’er my heart and into your love,
I’ll see you again, my sweet dove.
Sounds of the city,
drums and an oud play a song
a wonderful day