This night

how did i get here, to the hall of heavy sorrows, hung like thick velvet drapes to ban the cheerful sun? memories of happy times are faded photographs, coated in dust that not even the strongest of zephyrs can blow away how dark circles are my legacy and tears my only solace to drench the wasteland that grew like dunes in my already heavy mind perhaps is best the zac shall make me a zombie to walk stoic and carry on living

menoh

I am a button pusher. I stir up trouble. It is what I do. I live in the borders between light and dark. I can write about beautiful things, and joy and love, but I find I am more creative when i write about the dark. I love to hold a mirror up to the...

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