Slow drips fall down the wall
Sets the scene of a
Tragedy
Surely, you take this with pessimism
But tragedy can be
Flowering
The burn of the browning papers
Explosion of
Black in the corner of where you sleep
Deep sighs and you creep
Into immobility
Yes, can you smell the blossoms
Your dark corner fading into your regret
I can share your regeneration
Yes,
Tragedy
Sets the scene of an
Epiphany
You can’t help but take this embrace with optimism
Slow smiles about to fall
Its worse, right?
Knowing nothing is tragic anymore.
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