scarknightchaos

monochromatic shades of your smile flicker gently somewhere between the lines drawn by fate and sunday, and reality turns to gray, my sanity is but a question in a thousand of rhymes. Myriads of echoes ripple like ghosts fading away from the constructs of the past cast in stone, asking if the future would hold you and me the same way i held you under the jealous stars. A poor excuse for something short of a poetry, with words crumbling before they reach that bubble, and disappearing in that emptiness hidden away in an illusion where you belong. a waste if you ask them... a dream if you ask me... my words are sinking deeper, farther and fur