Between two shades of nothing – chapter: My Dying Days
A selfish, cold touch from the rude wind on her skin,
The walls of a hotel room seem a bit thin,
Something else and yet the same,
- so lost –
Going insane by the thought of being sane.
An unsteady table with nothing on it,
The perfect reflection of herself,
The dead flies and the burned – out lights,
Complete delicately this disgraceful sight.
This silence carries such a shame,
Staring at the floor, no one remembers her name.
A window is open to let the guilt wither away,
She didn’t wanted to go or to stay.
Pseudo-life with pseudo-lines,
When everything is hanging on a single thought,
Between two shades of nothing she is caught….
Life was never meant to be something simple,
In distant and silent waters, Death shall ripple.
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