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In the swirling depths of blue and grey,
A figure falls where shadows play.
Lost in the art that perchance belonged to me,
seeking someone that would set me free.

I fall with faith, not fear in sight,
But there are no hands to hold me, gentle and light,
And I hurt myself yet again.
Not a single heartbeat beside,
No soul share my misery and apin.

The push I took, I thought was grace.
Desired a smoother path, a safer place.
But down I plunged through silent lies.
Collecting pieces of the mirror of hopes and darkened skies.

They painted me with harsh, splashing brushstrokes.
The water's gone above my head and I am about to choke.
Just like a fever, it's burning me alive.
Can't seem to heal from the words that cut deeper than the knife.

A fire burns where trust once stood,
as they witness my love drown in poisoned wood.
Feel like I am a cursed heap,
I am stuck, unable to breathe.

So near the end, I closed my eyes,
No wings to fight, no will to rise.
I put away my misery in a casket, burying it deep,
perhaps I am just an artist born to weap.

COMMENTS

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Cadrewolf2
03:31 Jul 03 2026

Sad

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