210
Echos - Lost Stars of The Old
by, K.M. Flowers
An echo left by a soul battered and bruised.
The times of the world around me seem so dull and unreal, so faded of color.
The times I look up towards the sky and look upon the shimmering stars that tell stories of the old are long silent.
Pain is something one feels? What about thinks?
It's constant, relentless, and unforgiving.
You plea, pray, and fight, but all that follows is more war,
more struggle.
Being left alone in silence is no longer calming, no longer relaxed.
The silence is like a roaring lion chasing you through the fields,
like a growl in the dark taunting you to run in fear.
It's like a storm that comes and never leaves.
I was told breaking will make me stronger as the mind and bones mend through the fights.
I was told the world would get better, and they have in some ways.
The world I live in, it's not colorful, it's not happy...
It's tormented and fragmented into splintering spears.
In sleep, no longer sanctuary from the torment of waking time.
In life, no longer dreams or future.
Just grey, colorless fields and skies emptied of stars that once spoke tales of those before us.
May one day those colors return so I can once more gaze upon those tales.
| Credit | All those who suffer from the torment of the world. |
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