Apathy, that's what she felt for the leisure activities she once used to adore so much.
Immobile, without a single desire to move an ounce of muscle, rooted to her spot, from dawn till dusk.
She so desperately wanted to vail aloud, for the reasons unknown to herself.
Demise was looking approachable these days, as if she would just embrace open heartedly its gift of eternal peace. Secretly enough, she wished for the eternal sleep to approach her soon for there wasn't any need of her in this mundane world nor was she stronge enough to fight the demons, if only she could approach it first, but, atlas, the rocks tied to her ankle wasn't yet heavy enough to drown the weight of her misery.
But
Hope keeps watering her soul, tho the flowers have collapsed, roots will grow firm just like her hope or so she thought.
For waiting for the blinding light at the end to drown her or unbound her completely wasn't looking worthwhile.
YOU ARE READING
Pieces of my soul
PoetrySoothe the demons in my head, hold me till my death. Highest-ranking #1 in self-absorbed #1 in unsaidfeelings #1 in poem collection #2 in poem collection #4 in latenightthoughts #3 in latenightthoughts #4 in selfreflection
