Wasted in their darkness...

this poem is about reality and pretense. Games that stand on the foundation of deceit, played by "so called friends" .

I walk this empty street,

Lined with faces wearing masks.

In constant smiles,

All sweet and beauty.

A smile so fake,

Yet real enough to convince you.

So sweet that it almost makes you smile,

Yet sweet enough to make your teeth hurt.

And beauty of the masked faces that,

In constant prayer, sing the beauty of their own darkness.

Monotonous and yet interesting…

 

You may get drawn to it…

Weird how you fall pray to their sham.

Knowing everything,

You choose not to believe.

Living in your comfort zone,

Oblivious to the threat it holds.

For, it shows you only what you want to,

Not what is right or wrong…

Not what is true or false…

Like a mirage.

 

Like how the small butterfly,

Dares to play with fire.

Oblivious of its consequence.

You play with darkness they show,

Unaware and innocent,

Naïve towards what may come.

Scared just a little bit,

You live through the days,

Like seeing a midnight summer’s dream.

 

But all dreams, good or bad,

Must come to an end.

And it is then when the reality strikes,

It strikes the hardest.

 

You step out of that comfort zone,

Realizing that you have been living a lie…

Only to find yourself…

…wasted in their darkness.

 

 

Author's Note

This is I thin one of my earliest poems. Probably the first. Please review. :)

Reviews

[Cool Girl]

Wow I really like this! If this is your first, then you have come a long way! Great job!

[Moonlight]

Thanks a lot! It means a lot! :)

[Cool Girl]

You are very welcome!