Poking at the wound I’ve inflicted,
with a mind as vindictive as every move carefully given.
With your soul I see what you see, taste what you eat,
feel every thorn which strikes you.
Every tear which you shed baths my heart with salt,
as harsh as each heartache I feel with your presence gone.
Each bloodshed my heart gives,
Slowly draining every inch of my soul, bound to end .
Each drop as meaningless as a flute without a companion to guide its beauty,
a vessel without a soul to fill up its nothingness.
As each step carefully planned as it may,
Pleading for a stage to give it praise,
Slowly falling at its feet.

How meaningless it is,
Every river of tears, wiped out of existence,
As each smile lit up this black scenery, giving life towards each species,
Cruelly returning it to dust, as we once found it.
Giving demise a chance of prosperity,
a glimpse of true potential,
the kind with no filter given a chance.
A void which needs no attention,
a place where time has no equivalence,
a chance to exist with ambition put asideYou.
A feeling which guides each heart through every fleeting moment.
© nosihlekatherine