I fly away, drift apart
I take the stairs and run to the stars
The knife cuts through my soul,
The only way to bring the heaps of chaos to halt

I sobbed under the pillows of clouds
They rained down my pain like colour of crayons
The pain clapped on the sky of my corpse
A perfect demolition of hopes

I fly away, I drift apart
I take the stairs and run to stars
The night is dark and the hour is slow
But what can you do when this becomes your soul?

oOo

A quick poem before bed :)