Never realised the passing hours of days and nights,
colourless dreams blotted by vanishing kisses and lights.
Sitting like a prince perched on an electric chair,
fading life signs, judging black and white,
is he still alright?
No one knows. Not me nor you.
Not for the life of him or you.
Not for the love of his life.
Altar-bound and hypnotised,
fed lies to quell hunger, with an insatiable appetite.
Light at the end of the deepest tunnels,
a kaleidoscope to marvel at in the darkest hours.
Whether a slip noose that hangs or a hand that strangles,
still the dreams beckon, the enemy haunts and laughs
shrilly in the deadest moments of the nights.
Wrestle free of bondage, rip clean the chains of fate,
sprout wings and glide above the clouded skies.
Faraway, an outplayed pawn dominates the fleeting queen,
like how Caesar stabbed Brutus in his trecherous heart.
Something no one ever wrote or foreseen.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
No comments:
Post a Comment