SoulWhisperer
Nothing Like The Looks « ❤️‍🩹 »
- Nov 13, 2023
- 583
A poem I wrote earlier while feeling very depressed, I tried to materialise what I couldn't do into what I could do (art). I wanted to share it here. This is just one of the many things I wrote, I wish someday after I die someone would make a collection out of what I wrote just as a testimony to my existence and pain.
21/10/2025: (My) Improper Beliefs
Face covered in shame.
Mind covered in doubts.
Soul covered in lies.
For that's all I frivolously believed in;
The beliefs and convictions I supposed were right,
And thought would someday align and meet to sustain me.
Lie, Lie, Lies.
The sole things coming out of my mouth;
The only sacred rituals I couldn't miss.
Asunder, in pieces, broken.
For an absurd man's utopia,
Sinking and drowning in unrealistic dystopias.
Dreams I couldn't graze;
Times I told you I was fine;
Smiles that purely reflected enthusiasm.
In an everlasting, collapsing dusk;
Completed and perfected by my fall:
A knight whose purpose was to be undone.
Set in motion a play with no actual actors;
Doom's own autonomous recital;
Sung and sprung to life by bleeding angels.
All, I'll burn it all—
Engulf it all in beautiful, clear flames—
Until the cinders and the ashes will purify air.
Breathe in the delusion,
Of a self-nominated outcast,
Forsaken amidst her own twisted wishes and desires.
If you ask me how I am,
I will not falter to firmly exclaim:
I, am, just, f i n e.
By: @SoulWhisperer
Thank you for reading.
21/10/2025: (My) Improper Beliefs
Face covered in shame.
Mind covered in doubts.
Soul covered in lies.
For that's all I frivolously believed in;
The beliefs and convictions I supposed were right,
And thought would someday align and meet to sustain me.
Lie, Lie, Lies.
The sole things coming out of my mouth;
The only sacred rituals I couldn't miss.
Asunder, in pieces, broken.
For an absurd man's utopia,
Sinking and drowning in unrealistic dystopias.
Dreams I couldn't graze;
Times I told you I was fine;
Smiles that purely reflected enthusiasm.
In an everlasting, collapsing dusk;
Completed and perfected by my fall:
A knight whose purpose was to be undone.
Set in motion a play with no actual actors;
Doom's own autonomous recital;
Sung and sprung to life by bleeding angels.
All, I'll burn it all—
Engulf it all in beautiful, clear flames—
Until the cinders and the ashes will purify air.
Breathe in the delusion,
Of a self-nominated outcast,
Forsaken amidst her own twisted wishes and desires.
If you ask me how I am,
I will not falter to firmly exclaim:
I, am, just, f i n e.
By: @SoulWhisperer
Thank you for reading.
