it keeps knocking,
begging to come in
and introduce itself.
introduce itself as peace,
as a new way to sing
in a world of silence.
silence that echoes
through the halls,
numbing to the mind.
numbness that will disappear,
but never stay quite gone
as the roof begins to crack.
the cracks scatter
and foundation cries,
unable to withstand the weight.
the weight of it all,
crashing down with force,
leaving only the door.
the door,
in which the knocking
continues.
Tag: death
🪦
one after another,
hand in hand,
step by step,
the job will be complete.
“keep going, you’re almost there!”
“don’t give up, not yet.”
“just a little bit further…”
“i’m here for you.”
all empty,
unlike the grave i just dug
with the shovel they provided me.
epilogue
the windows stay shut,
but the breeze still finds its way in-
an unwanted whisper through the cracks
no one bothers to seal.
the branches claw at the roof,
like Death attempting to
take the last breath
i never wanted to keep.
some mornings,
the mirror forgets to show me
at all-
reminding me how
empty i am.
and the storm clouds-
they keep lowering themselves,
inch by inch,
like they’re trying
to carry me quietly
away.
maybe i should let them.
i think i will.
rog's poems 