deepundergroundpoetry.com

Untouched

The sea of words has turned to sand;
A tired wind retreats.
Why must I feel this weariness?
Erasing all belief.

This curtain call of summertime;
This isolated beat,
Is drumming through a pleasure-dome
Where love is bound to meet.

I struggle to convince myself;
I struggle to believe,
That all I ever visualized
Is just beyond my reach.

I contemplate a better life,
Where love is truly found.
The entrance to Elysium
has left me underground.

 
Written by Evocation
Published
Author's Note
Love can be evanescent, but it doesn't stop me from dreaming.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
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