Dark and twisted, grey.

the many shades to my Joy.

This is just the beginning of your age old ploy

to break this spirit

and walk away

you smiled to my pain

and often I look upon the falling leaves of my faith

and I see you all around

walk on

walk over me again.

I will not fight it now.



5 thoughts on “

  1. Nothing has a right to glorify pain. Not even poetry. Pain is pathetic.

    Who is the ‘you’ here. It cannot be a person. There is no God. Then, what/who is ‘you’?

  2. No glorification of pain there. The “beauty of pain” there, however, is the fact that it lets you know you’re still alive. No pain and you might as well be dead. No pain and you won’t have poetry to read. World peace out.

  3. the beauty of pain is the fact that you know you are moving towards the highest goal, death….you feel pain and you grow older.

    Everyone feels pain, it is not unique…just like love.

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