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Master Of Melancholy

I blossom in the isolation
In the inner conversation;
Consider the dark April nights,
Sky crying, flashes of lights-
On and on the winds pass;
I sit alone on a patch of grass
And I wonder to myself-
Why the universe revolves me.

I keep exploring the silence,
Thoughts so dark so intense;
Blinded by melancholy, I ride-
Bright inside but dead outside;
Nights are long and days are quiet,
A little bit lost after each fight;
Yet all these struggle can't spell-
What the universe wants me to be.
Tuesday, April 6, 2021
Topic(s) of this poem: lost,isolation,existentialism
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4/17/2021 11:33:15 PM # 1.0.0.559