THEendOmega

Walking toward something, a goal. A sign on the edge of what's known. Dragging limp legs from a hole. How did this pit become my home? How do I get to what I can't see? I've been longing so much to find you. A warmth to bask in, a chill hits me. How the cold of memory cuts through. I've got cold bones, and aching limbs. A sour heart, an audience of jeers. A spoiled hope with a jagged trim. A youth that's been old for years. But the cold bones yield to nothing here Still bearing the cold weight of woe and fear Tears in eyes, sweat from brow. A path. A road. A knowing how, My cold bones will know the warmth of the sun. I just have