The silent silence of everything can be comforting but comfort is an illusion. The darkness is ever elusive just like my soul on a seemingly endless voyage into the night. The storm rages on silently but never quietly. The world is my vessel, my vessel is war torn and ravaged but still I carry on into the storm. My soul is my hammer, my hammer seems glorious, my hammer seems everlasting but as soon as I look away for a minute my hammer is covered in rust. My vessel becomes me but It still fails me. So silent and sweetly I fall into the raging storm.
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A collection of poems and late night musings
PoetryJust a collection of poetry and late night musings I wrote, mainly to just vent and release feelings that I felt couldn't be explained in anything other than words. Sharing a bit of my grey world view with people, the stuff I write is pretty dark an...
