Exhaustion
*Edited
A weirdish freestyle poem I made when I was lamenting the responsibility that comes with growing older. Unlike my former writing, it's more about feeling tired than needing a purpose.
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A Lonely Queen sits on her throne,
A crown of glass and her heart cold
Her golden staff, it shines so bright,
But it does nothing to show her kingdom's plight
And in the end she knows the truth
That there's nothing to hold her youth
It's gone and lost to faraway
And she's left alone with the grey
Specters, regrets
And paying, her debts
Sometimes she thinks she sees the silhouette
Of childish juvenile fun
Of leaping under the sun
With no fear, no tears in her heart
Of lax, laidback days
Of sleeping in late
With no worry, no hurry to please
When her mother and father smiled down at her
When she knew nothing of their pain
When she had the freedom of a flying bird
When broken were her chains
But all things come to an end
And she knew she would too
Her youth disappeared, it came and went
Now she was waiting in the queue
Species: Corvus Corax
It's hard to describe. You may interpret this poem however you wish, but I personally feel that it means being tired. Have you ever felt tired of being alive? Not as in physically exhausted or mentally stressed - just this numb feeling that makes you wonder if it would be better to spend your life in a box of fuzzy black than on Earth. Perhaps some would understand it better as perversely intense laziness.