LunaticA Poem by Ana B.Wake up, darling From this life written
on draft. The eyes are starving But the soul remains
trapped…
And on this path
towards demise That we achingly call
life It’s hard to see
through the disguise Of sweet promise on
the tip of the knife
That drips and forms
the river That lavishly feeds
the illusion Of this draft, lacking
in rigor Inevitably reaching
the occlusion;
And then in the last
second I realize I should
write sometimes, not just read… There is no better
weapon Than to think you’re
awake while deep asleep…
© 2017 Ana B.Author's NoteReviews
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Added on May 19, 2017Last Updated on May 25, 2017 Related WritingPeople who liked this story also liked..
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