16
May
What was I thinking…chasing after something that isn’t mine?
Adge
Most days I stand defeated,
From an explosion of a meteor
Into many tiny pieces of glittering stars.
And it makes me wonder…
If I am at the bottom,
Then why can’t I get back up,
Climb right to the top,
And be that stone cold rock.
I’m still buried in the ash,
My wings are tied, they’re clipped,
And the fire that once was
is slowly but, surely flaming away.
My tears have dried on their own,
stained the pedestal I was once on,
Pavements left are these broken dreams,
One by one evaporate like hot steam.
What to do? Oh, what to do?
Not even once a spark of clue.
Haunted by line-less clouds,
Wet to drown I’ve lost my crown.
No valor of soldiers,
No lovers of hearts,
No bags of gold,
Nothing but, the big black hole.
