A Cocoon

Fear had run its course,

Blood froze, his eyeslids rose,

Fear reigns.

The fear of losing someone, nowhere to run,

Who could read his breath, his eyes,

He wished he were in front of a gun.

His actions were a cold disgrace,

To what he called love,

Tears all over her face.

Those tiny things made me happy, elated.

Just his attention, her gaze.

Time couldn’t heal this wound, yet he waited.

He couldn’t wash off the stains,

He wound himself a cocoon,

Fear reigns.

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Published by: Jash

I write, taking into consideration the photographic memory of the various lives I've seen around me. What I write isn't only something time has shown me, in my life and others', but also a segment of lunatic imaginative ideas, fascinating ; yes, but also a sway from a daily ideal routine, for peace to those grey cells, which always try to accomplish the impossible, into a world where nothing is impossible...

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