The Poet Me
by At Half Mast· from Flight Patterns
Monuments fall, buildings crumble, faces fade away.
The sun sets on history,
what once was is not to be.
I feel death breathing down my neck and the
question plagues my mind...
If a second chance were given would I do things
right this time?
If only I could understand perfection is so far from the way
man is meant to be...we're supposed to wear our scars.
From lost love, for
hopes destroyed, from mistakes that form an endless void
From failure, from
broken dreams, for the nights that find us on our knees...
My eyes close
slowly, for the last time.
Never again will they cry.
My reflection forms in
the dark sky, and in this moment I depart.