As I stand in the darkness.

Memories haunt me like a haunted façade,

Strolling down the empty streets,

Hands folded, the air thin like a thread,

Turning back in emptiness gives me the creeps.

Hollow, shadow moments drawn in the line, 

Slithering through my veins and pulses,

I could say I felt evil through, but am not fine,

There were no shops, humans, nor houses.

I thought I was dreaming,

But the condescending feeling fed me otherwise,

They say seeing is believing,

But being in such ways, its not at all nice.

The crow passed it's day on the ground,

Dead, flattered and crushed to tiny pieces,

My mind flickered with nothing but that clown,

I felt like writing a story on it, like a thesis.

The streets, the town, felt like deception,

Street lamps doesn't look familiar at all,

Not sure if its a hallucination nor imagination,

But I saw something, blurry, skinny and tall.

I knew I must have been in my fantasy state,

The feeling was so cold and tragic,

Was this my luck, in the bad-line fate?,

This was superficial, felt like was magic.

But tricks no longer played on my mind,

The reality seems too far away,

Few years down the road I must have been blind,

Because, nothing I did right would ever stay.

I heard karma, I heard anxiety,

But that was not it,

I did't care what was my priority,

Till I fell and then bleed.

This is it, running forward, never-ending,

A pace that cannot be traced and followed,

Continuing the journey, like the past is fading,

Put a smile on my face, like a life that has been borrowed.

-Copyright reserved-

Maine the pain

*In writing this poem, there were plenty of connotations in it, and what reflects through my 21 years of life.