We are sad stories in shadows,
Our darkness glows and follows those who roam in the daylight of dark
Whispers which echo,what if the winds are trapped souls trying to scream but the words just fall apart
I find the darkness to be so vast,filled with stories and poetry drips from its heart
So much fear yet we tend to dig holes in the pits of our souls to find the lightness within the dark,or just loose ourselves with the lost
Too many aspects to analyze so we just pass them on,not noticing the gold but only the bronze
Not looking to the soul but only the visuals in front of our eyes and yet we wonder why our generation and world is lost
And why our woman no more love but bleed hatred and cry fountains of fear,
For the world feels like a two sided battle ring where she either fights or cleans up the blood
So in her mind all men do in kitchen is cook up fire to burn her love
Should she feast on the pain and become what a “man” has become?
Should she endure the pain and leave footsteps of her blood for generations to come and allow young girls to loose their happiness and youth in belief that this is “love”?
Two fingers to my “manly” brain if this is the future my young one’s shall endure and ill be 9 feet,ashes to ashes,love is not love