deepundergroundpoetry.com
The Sound So Mysterious.
I guess you could call it pathetic,
perhaps you could say I'm a joke?
Still, give my desire some credit,
because it has once gone up in smoke.
Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself,
however long I will wait.
I want the memories up on shelves,
the sort so impossible to hate.
If anything could be mine,
for a second, a minute, an hour....
It would be the moment the stars align,
an instant for my soul to devour.
Tiny heartbeats haunt my head,
then flicker out to sound again.
If they have to stop, take mine instead?
For the million times my souls' been slain.
Usually I ignore the ache,
like the look from a past flame.
But now, the sound, I can't shake.
It echoes off the walls of my brain.
My wish is not malleable,
simply unchanging as the sky.
From joy, my heart would crumble
to form a beat that is not mine.
perhaps you could say I'm a joke?
Still, give my desire some credit,
because it has once gone up in smoke.
Maybe I'm getting ahead of myself,
however long I will wait.
I want the memories up on shelves,
the sort so impossible to hate.
If anything could be mine,
for a second, a minute, an hour....
It would be the moment the stars align,
an instant for my soul to devour.
Tiny heartbeats haunt my head,
then flicker out to sound again.
If they have to stop, take mine instead?
For the million times my souls' been slain.
Usually I ignore the ache,
like the look from a past flame.
But now, the sound, I can't shake.
It echoes off the walls of my brain.
My wish is not malleable,
simply unchanging as the sky.
From joy, my heart would crumble
to form a beat that is not mine.
All writing remains the property of the author. Don't use it for any purpose without their permission.
likes 2
reading list entries 0
comments 8
reads 799
Commenting Preference:
The author encourages honest critique.