
Navigating diverse paths throughout the day,
each brimming
with varied hues and shifting moods,
seamlessly weaving hell and heaven,
obstructing the essential sight,
like a misplaced focal point in a poor artwork.
How can I escape this?
With nowhere to flee, I search the earth.
Toes crooked, eyes bloodied,
leaving no mark, head throbbing.
I want to hibernate, like a wild beast in its den.
Forget about perpetrators, bad choices,
basking in the sunlight on my tired face.
Perhaps a wild animal will wander near,
while scratching its back, I'll stretch my legs.
My muscles will unwind until I drift off
waking in an unknown place,
unburdened by troubles that trip me up.
A clear path, but not for me, sadly.
I wish…
About the Creator
Moon Desert
UK-based
BA in Cultural Studies
Crime Fiction: Love
Poetry: Friend
Psychology: Salvation
Where the wild roses grow full of words...




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