Shooting stars,
To run down
In vain.
Wishing bones
Are writhing in
Shame.
For a story
I wanted to write
I've forgotten
My own name.
Colours faint
Out of boredom,
On the canvas
I want to paint.
Melodies stand
Divided for a
Song that's
On it's way.
Before I could
Conjure,
God has stoned
My fate...
For the
Shipwreck
Between my
Ribcage...
I'm just a
Tale in a
Torn out page.