The void,
Its emptiness, fills my sense of self with nothing
Dark , its expanse as the midnight sky
Rules my emotions, like a king
I fight with the darkness for a sweet escape,
but it tones down to just a futile try.
Come one, come all, it’s happening again
Pushing away people, as I make my descent
I walk down the dammed lane
The blood moon forming a crescent.
Tantalising thoughts howl like a wolf at the moon
The feed on my trepid soul
The darkness is devoured, a void left like a boon.
Wandering through the road, with not a goal.
A flicker of hope,
Then lends you a rope.
It beams you up, a classic Trope.
It fills your void with what you think is good,
But you drown in water like no one should.
Drowning makes me breathe again, a fresh new perspective.
Frau Trude works like an antiseptic.
Always feeling this emptiness, walking down the path of life alone. The feeling of the sadness feeding off of you. Someone wants to help, but it initially feels like drowning but is what gives your life a fresh perspective, the manipulation providing a mending hand
