Black Sun

A Poem by Alexander143

This is the process of my girfriend and I breaking up... I can feel that day dawning...

Point of no return?
No. I've been there twice. No lies.
Lost in no-man's-land?

That, by comparison, is paradise.

Lost at sea?
Maybe... With an anchor whose chain is snapping... Nice piece, no rehearsal.
The sail of whose has burnt down to ashes.
Oh. And... One with a glory hole... Yes. Lost at sea... In a sinking vessel.

How did I get here, you ask...
I took the road to success. Fate if you will. No! My destiny was my destination.
But, I had the company of a wrong companion.
So... Where am I now? Just here. Stuck under a frozen moment of Black Sun. It's somehow an abomination.

Black Sun is the PrinceCharmer breaking his princess' heart.
It's when the wall of romance and fate that they built comes crumbling to fragment in their grip.
It's when you think you're thinking, but actually, you're still thinking of what's right to think about.
Black Sun is where I am. It's simply... Where you don't wish to be. It's sick, not just deep.

Black Sun is fighting a loosing battle when what you're losing is faith.
It's working hard to see your labour's earnings swept by the waves of nature.
It's putting all your eggs in one basket, and putting the basket in a blind cripple's hand.
It's acting stupid when there's no audience but a stuck-on-the-wall picture.

Black Sun is wanting to hold on to something that will chop off your arms.
It's not chasing the wind. It's trying to get to the finish line before it.
It's hearing, but refusing to listen.
It's here with me. I'm literally under it.

Black Sun is living with doubts of crossing over today's boarder lines.
It's saying I love you Natasha when you don't know why you're saying the words.
It's praying that you don't break down as in your head, is looped, the clip of your break up.
It's Black Sun. But I don't expect to be understood by 'LOVE BIRDS.'

Black Sun is funny. It's trying to communicate behind the wordy beauty of poetry and have your reader not get it.
It's you reading this and thinking I'm just a hell of a writer, 'Just saying.'
It's stupid when you think about it. But think about me who's feeling it.
Let me not lie to you. It's bitter, not sweet. It's hurting, keeping tears from creeping out of your eyes while saying...

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