i heard my night before me,

a tumult yearning for wings.

taints of blood in the sea

sinking in ancient springs

my dreams run in despair

while i see the last steps of the day

in this abyss hidden somewhere

between my pain and decay

a whiskey bottle is my calendar

days of remorse and rage

as i count the stars so far

sleeping in my favourite cage

i heard my night before me

a tumult i need to sedate,

my suicide i need to see

while my rebirth i wait

Karla Bardanza

1 comment:

  1. Drowning the day away in a bottle, to soothe the anger, to live in the cage of ones doing. Then once you have reached oblivion, you have pushed away all that angers and can wake to a new start. Great write.