Dark Night of the Soul 290

by Love   Jul 18, 2020



Tonight has become the coldest night, yet.
Not even my poetry can warm me,
On this dark night of the soul.

Only these wet tears are present now…
Burning trailing holes upon my delicate face;
Leaving ghostly gravestones from a dying heart.

It’s a cacophony of screaming memories,
Wailing in agonizing pain,
All of which are begging to be set free.

For now- I will hold myself still…
Close my eyes and hold myself in utter desperation.
All the while, praying for a better tomorrow.

(Somehow)

Inspired by, "St John of the Cross in the Dark Night of the Soul 290"

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  • 3 years ago

    by Milton

    This is really sad. I've been there feeling like this way too many times. I really like how you described how hard it is to think of the memories. They went from being very real and happy and now they're so hard to think about. I like how you wrote about the tears trailing holes in your face too and the ending. I liked everything about this! Great job! I hope you're okay.

    • 3 years ago

      by Love

      xxxxx Big Hugs! xxxxx

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