Longing for salvation, hiding from mistakes made in the spur of the moment…

There is no stopping my mistakes from tainting the future a lurid shade of dirty gray.. Is the no respite from the constant hauntings of the past?

The mercurial moon laughs at my awkward attempts in righting all wrongs… snatching all hope of a better tomorrow.

I am a starving poet in the house of the Lords, waiting for scraps that will never come. The sun sets in the horizon and my spirit wanes as the clock strikes 12.

The Lord of the Light turns his back at the final hour… I have found that Loneliness is a companion most loyal in my darkest hour.

The beast was here all along…


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Diary of a Broken Soul
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Poetry for The Diary and Diary of a Broken Soul Blog by Ash Abdullah