Up all night, thoughts astray.
Praying to the abyss for yet another day.
Flying high, abrupt downturn.
No one pleads to exist, yet we are all forced to earn.
My left is up right is down.
I found myself.
I lost it.
Typical.
My surroundings disgust and bore me.
Suttle undertones of rage emerge.
Typical.
Boarderline hallucinations on the rise.
I've lost track of time again.
That bright glow just outside my window grows more vibrant by the second.
Quite beautiful.
Nevertheless, business as usual.
Dangerously sane?
I Can't tell the difference.
Who handles these matters?
Myself not qualified, deserving, nor willing.
quite beautiful really, thanks. I invite you to read my poems and comment.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Enticing one, keep moving your fingers!