Simulacrum
Simulacrum  poetry stories
  17
  •  
  0
  •   0 comments
Share

ghostengine
ghostengine A journey into madness, either way.
Autoplay OFF   •   2 months ago
A false image.

Simulacrum

In my vision she flares like sulphur, Burning shapes into my eyes. A shape thats almost like her, Dead embers stoked, arise.

I take my steps towards her, Aged desires, impulse. You stand in perfect portrait, An image akin, yet false.

As if she's placed behind you, A window marred with dirt. Softly you look towards me, A smile that hints comfort.

I know that you are not her, She has left this earth in flame. But If asked with gentle whisper, I can forget you're not the same.

I hope you enjoyed this short poem. Please leave a like or comment if you feel it deserves it, and if you like follow me for more tales.

Stories We Think You'll Love 💕

Get The App

App Store
COMMENTS (0)
SHOUTOUTS (0)