Poetry gives me life. Been writing most of my life.
In the depths of my mind, a room resides,
A sanctuary of chaos, where panic hides,
A place of refuge, yet a prison too,
This is the tale of my Panic Room.
...
In the depths of my being lies a hole,
A void that echoes of despair and pain,
A cavity where loneliness takes its toll,
A wound where love fails to sustain.
...
Somewhere; somehow
I'm bound to find you in a hidden place.
My name is Death.
I come bearing burned offerings.
...
In the depths of night, where shadows creep,
A haunting presence, a secret to keep,
A tale of darkness, of despair and pain,
In this Gothic realm, where souls remain.
...
In the realm of time, two generations clash,
Generation Nine and Millennials, at odds they clash,
Separated by years, ideologies, and more,
Their differences pronounced, an eternal lore.
...