PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I live in the melancholy state

Of the happy thought

That I have died.



I live in the organized confusion

Of the question of

How will I die again?

Let truth be told normality’s aside,

How did I die the first time?



I live in the melancholy state

Of the happy thought

That I have died.



I live in the solemn calmness

Of nights complex composure.

Nature’s rhythm soothes me,

And I sit.

To reflect on the thought.



I-

I live-

I live in-

I live in the dark

State of solitary sadness

Of the distant composure maintained.



I live on the outside

Of life’s dream reality.