Hush

Hush the quiet whispers

the voices left to fly

across the golden meadow

I forced my tears to lie.

too soon the night approaches

its darkness pinned with stars.

they mock the night with brightness

like my own hidden scars.

if i could make angels

in a field of aged gold,

would I be happy

against the bitter cold.

hush I hear whispers

voices in my head

they remind me with their presence

I only feel slightly dead.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s