Spiraling Down


With a cigarette in one hand
A bottle of Jack in the other
How many days had it been?
She could not even bother

Unable was she to vent
Standing at sanity’s brink
For all her days were spent
Losing herself to over-think

Once this girl, so jolly
A flower crown on her head
Was drowning in melancholy
and her soul was dead

The echoes still resonated
Laughter, jokes and melodies
Rapidly evaporating in the air
Among many other stories

Head-first into the swamp
Of complete isolation
Pain; her sole companion
A monotonous dedication

Lying sprawled on the ground
Who once reached for the sky
How had this happened?
She still wonders why

Ambitious tales of life
and love are now but history
To find what’s left behind
Remains an unsolved mystery

© Rosh Von Amber 2014


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