If These Trees Could Talk

If these trees could talk,
They would speak of you and I,
They would spill words for your immortale grace
And waste the same for this atrocious soul of mine.

Tonight silence broke my cruel heart,
The air became skin-tight and the sky fell apart,
Today is the day I realized what I’ve lost,
Every little piece that I have tossed,
Trudging slowly infront of my eyes,
With nothing more than violent goodbyes.

If this sky could talk,
It wouldn’t open it’s winsome mouth,
For silence is what collides the deaf
And their pity hearts full of ravishing passion

I said:
“Wouldn’t it be great to strangle all the foolish words,
Replace them with a stare which says it all
And what a great world that would be
Such a shame I belong in a foolish state of humanity.”

An answer was nowhere near
For I was sharing dreams with my own blended mind
And reality struck to my heart’s race
So the clash shall never again exist
Only a ruthless battle of my mental state
With a pinch of misery that lies ahead till the end of my time.

If my soul could speak,
It would ring a million words of love and disgust,
My silent laugh would echo through eternity
As my stare screams a mellifluous sound of epiphany.

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About whatsername

Sadness somehow squeezed itself into this decomposed heart of mine and as soon as it stepped into the lonely rooms of my soul all doors shut bringing home a present of infinite winter. A legend once said to paint beamish words on a piece of paper so sadness may find it's place on a shelf between made up stories and ring the truth of infinite sadness. View all posts by whatsername

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