Light fades into dark,
the hues of dusk wash over the horizon leaving
a moonless sky blanketing
the world,
my world.
I rise from a burnt out fire,
from a now-vacant warmth,
charred and growing ever colder,
not even enough remains
to use to light the path
that lies ahead.
I walk alone,
in spite of the beliefβin spite
of the handβI once
held.
In the dark
and in the cold,
there is no solace,
only resignation
to the dark and cold reality
that dreams of love
are simply delusions
conjured from the infection
of hope.
So beautiful. When you write like this, you speak the same language as me π
Thank you so much π It’s the only language. I’m glad it resonates.
Wow I felt the coldness wash over me too when I read this. Brilliant β€ You write similar to the way I do. Love it.
Palpable and very thoughtful. Love the atmosphere of this poem.
You have great language, I went back and read a few more, and I really enjoyed your poetry.
Thanks for the follow over on my blog!
Been there, done that. A lot. Don’t we all go through this? Thanks for sharing this universal heart twang.
That last line says everything!
Thanks for reading! π
Any time. π
Really a powerful poem!
Thank you so much. I appreciate you stopping by π
I really love some of the phrasing so you have used here. Especially ‘infection of hope.’ Sometimes that’s exactly what it feels like…
Thank you so much for reading π It is rather nice to know the feeling is shared in some ways.