When all the verses have been sung.
To break the clamour of reality
The fantastical need be drawn on.
When fantasy runs out,
What is there to do?
Be silent.
It is difficult to see the sunset,
When all the sunsets have been seen.
To see the realm of dreams
Dreams cannot become real.
If there are no more dreams to have,
What, then, is there to do?
Live life.
It is hard to find a moment,
Where everything is still,
Where the birds chirp not.
A moment that you or I
Could stay in for eternity.
It could be within a chord,
Or the setting of the sun.
But there are no more chords,
No more sunsets.
They are someone else's moments,
And I will let them have them.
This poem makes no sense... BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH! (BLAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGH, I SAY!)
It's still beautiful!
ReplyDeleteI'm a sucker for poetry, I think everything is fantastic! Not saying your poetry is bad or anything, because it's not.
so bad, but it might have to do wit the fact that depression is setting in
ReplyDeleteI think the break is crushing my soul (jaws theme music)
ReplyDeleteIT MAKES SENSE TO ME! :D
ReplyDeleteWait... is that a good thing or a bad thing?
i couldn't tell you
ReplyDelete