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    SilvryArdor
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Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.

Warning: Dark and triggering topics

A terrible, nonsensical poetry and others - 13. Chapter 13 Mind

My poetry is like my mind,

Its form and shell harden from all the pain and experience in life.

But like my poetry there are no fillings,

The shell exist, hardens

Yet remained empty.

Like a poetry with only proses,

Like our existence in the universe

Like a grain of sand in the Sahara,

and,

the emptiness of universe in the beginning of time,

there is nothing else

Unhinged. Nothing but unhinged.

As per guideline, I will write a plenty full jar of poetry *shakes liquid jar* and set them to be...well...published once a day.

Copyright © 2020 SilverArdour; All Rights Reserved.
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I do not know how this works but I filled it.

Stories posted in this category are works of fiction. Names, places, characters, events, and incidents are created by the authors' imaginations or are used fictitiously. Any resemblances to actual persons (living or dead), organizations, companies, events, or locales are entirely coincidental.
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I like the image you set out for us: the poem as the hard shell, drawn from the experience of living. It’s kind of like the exoskeleton of a lobster, perhaps.

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21 hours ago, Parker Owens said:

I like the image you set out for us: the poem as the hard shell, drawn from the experience of living. It’s kind of like the exoskeleton of a lobster, perhaps.

Indeed and we are all soft inside somehow, like a soft squishy thing going inside a shell to be protected. Will it use the space to harden or remain unchanged?

Lobster are also delicious! Pretty much anything questionable if seasoned well-

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