Enigma
Shroud yourself in mystery, for all the wonder that it heeds.
Beauty and pain that I see, strolling through brimstone the world constantly breathes,
Tell me, the world that loves to hate, why is it that you blatantly block thy gates?
Running blue as the tides and swift as air...Still gifting nothing but a nasty glare,
Your knack for Imitation and conformity is to blame for ruin that seethes.
Enigma
More often than not we neglect the once lively leaves in this lonely town,
Traveling unnoticed, not at all rapt with an unholy crown,
Slither along like serpentine shadows beneath all light,
Secluded from the puppets and towards the puppeteers that too heed the blight.
About the Creator
Mario Castelli
Merely a writer that sees the world through a lens of both logic and abstraction, that enjoys thinking deeper and learning of things shrouded in mystery and advocating for the silent.
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Nature of the Anxious
Where in the world am I? I feel it, it’s there on my shoulder just sitting there keeping me company. Clinging to my thoughts so rich in its worry, darkness, and dismay. A being so minuscule in size, yet so strong. Binding to my shoulder and whispers, whispers his worry; feeling his fear weighing down my chest like lead.
By Mario Castelli6 years ago in Poets
Midnight
60 seconds… 59 seconds… Time was slipping through his fingers, though he clawed at the falling grains of sand, he could not stop the hourglass from flowing. Around him, the silence was deafening. He had taken over every screen in the command centre, putting the terrible seconds before the terrified eyes of his friends and comrades.
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