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Freedom in the form of a water drop

Wind gently carrying me

Let this place burn to the ground

And from it sprout the night’s dream

Waves in the pottery

Glaze what’s left of the earth

Kiss my cheek and wish me good luck

I will be weightless and float upwards

I’ll fall in love with the sunrise

I’ll say goodbye when the sun falls

Curtain going down on the landscape

Mantle of night I can see all

A clear map of the sky dome

Etheric waterfalls when I close eyes

Interlace fingers with the firmament

Kiss me goodnight and I’ll slumber

Like the glimmers of the sea when the night comes

visibility19

Lullaby for the end of the world by family_staralternate_emailbrutus

posted last month, edited last month

A gentle sea

poem poetry witheredpoems writing

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EndlesslyThe stars are falling from the sky and I do not know why; are they escaping the blackest void that has spread across the heavens or are they tired of shedding tears to the world below that is now full of misery? The sight of their departure is beautiful nonetheless and when I shift my gaze away from the heavens and look back at you, I can see how the starlight is reflected from your glazed eyes, your body motionless as you wait for the sign that makes our bodies move like puppets controlled by strings. It seems like tonight you do not remember our earliest memories; I can see it from the way you are looking at me. No matter how many times I experience it, it always feels like a stab to the heart. I do not know if it is better this way, I am being torn apart anyway. 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Now they are nothing more but mementos of the days when everything was well. Winds play with their branches, twisting them, clinging onto them like mischievous spirits, not letting their dried-up corpses rest in peace. Tonight, however, the winds are in a different kind of mood. They are blowing across the vast field of nothingness in an ominous way and I can hear them whispering. They want blood, they want misery. I do not know what kind of sadistic glee they will gain from what is about to transpire here, but they will get what they wished for. With the vile winds came legions of soldiers of the past, groups of people I have seen for the past thousand years, but whom I cannot remember anymore. In my eyes, their bodies are translucent and their facial features have been smudged like ink stains. I simply do not recognize who they are anymore. Perhaps that is how they perceive me, maybe I am like a ghost to them, too. We are all supposed to be dead and gone now, and yet, here we are. 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