Warmth is that spark,
That paints in black,
The ghostly surface,
Heating my solace.
Offer me your veins
I’ll help you contain
The unspeakable pain
Of knowing all humans die in vain
I saw them pledge to the divine,
Drinking Sunday’s wine
They promise nothing happens in vain,
I will never be lost again
Their endless tirades
Put Chaos in the shade
I stayed on the side,
As they waved me goodbye
Is addiction
Worse than desperate devotion?
At each of them I stared
And then, looked above,
I saw with my own eyes
An indescribable Abyss
Using language as disguise
The abyss stared back
He for whom language lack
I went to it, a fever
To find out the truth behind “forever”
Copyright Barbara Ferreres – copy/reproduction without the author written consent is forbidden – reproduction sans autorisation écrite de l’auteur interdite – 2024
Author: Barbara Ferreres
I'm an eatherable mass belonging to nowhere (better known as Barbara Ferreres) and the unreliable narrator of its own descent into the margins of society. It's not that badn you should come and grab a tea sometimes. I love working with people, email me at tombelapluiepoetry@gmail.com. I would love it!
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