The sun burns blue
In the crimson sky above
Black trees graze the horizon
And there is no love
At night it is calm
The wind bends the palms
Waves rumble a somber tome
And stars gleam—as though I was never born
Angry gods light up the sky
And screams rain down from above
And there is no love
I thrive on the silence
As much as it hurts
Like the kiss of a razor
The bliss of a burn
Stained glass images
Shattered
And torn
There are no strings
There’s no dotted line
Just an image
And mankind
But what of our quest
What of our fragile happiness
What of
That thumping organ
Thriving in our chest
There is no love
There is no rest
There is only fire
And silence
And our futile quest
To search
And never find
Happiness
Submission Name: untitled
i liked it.