in this chaos, in this darkness

i keep walking around, why would i feel nothing for the ground?

it doesn’t matter how, my steps don’t even make a sound

my hands are bare, my eyes are blinded

slices of lights smoking with fogs when all I feel was the little cold steam

splashing my face gently and I’m still walking

pieces of rock and metal growling from my soul

my way is twisted but my way out is a hope

no matter black and white, yellow and blue, red and green

you can’t stop me from what I lost

because I’ve been lost since I’m in the darkness anyways

therefore i shall say, “fuck the torture, ima find my fucking way out.”



Ephraim C.