Losing the game
An hour so bright
As if breathing was life
Brutal silence
In the sky, sullen
I could feel my own death
Purple
And pale
This time the mirror would
Darken
A night so dark
As if living was peace
Lies on the floor
And myself, torn
This time the hanged man would
Die.
This poem was written by Eliza Simon on May 27, 2007.
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