Another chance squandered and crushed,
It feels as if the universe wants me to be hushed,
I refuse to let another opportunity escape,
Who am I?
Too tired to rest, yet I require it.
Why can’t this be the final time?
Flying round’ like a strung toy with a faint chime,
Constant daydreaming of where I want to be, to love;
Where do I belong?
Trying to let go but holding it all in.
Am I destined to fade, dissipate into the colored wind,
Shall I ever find that man within this mind?
The Devil robs me of strength--hissing in my ear;
What am I?
I am sleeping, though my memory is frolicking in meadows.
About the Creator
Mario Castelli
Merely a writer that sees the world through a lens of both logic and abstraction, that enjoys thinking deeper and learning of things shrouded in mystery and advocating for the silent.
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