spiralling, spiralling, spiralling

spiralling, spiralling, spiralling

A Poem by winter;lyra

everyone is down
spiral form despair
like something's in the air
but no demon beneath my bed
you'll find that's one that hides
right through your veins
like a pessimist's wet dream
he's shy of introductions
you know him truly well
that scentless carcass
makes days of your strains
pain, famine, a mild migraine
name your game
and let it stay and hold your grave
while you take your break
unknowingly brave
as if there was an escape

© 2019 winter;lyra


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Added on April 27, 2019
Last Updated on April 27, 2019