A Miserable Town

Here's a Gothic but sad poem for you! 

‘A Miserable Town'

When the night is dark 

and the hour hand rests on twelve,

that's when all the sorrow leaks 

from the cracks of unopened windows. 

Like a sunflower's petals,

all the wounds cut themselves open

to the darkness that resides only at this hour. 

A silhouette appears in the dark

covered with what looks like a blanket

of hurt and misery. 

You can't see the face,

but you can recognise it's agony 

There comes the weeping sound 

of the old lady who lives alone

‘cause she lost her son to the battlefield. 

Listen carefully and you can hear

the unified cries of everyone behind

the closed windows of this 

miserable town. 

Each soaking in the sadness of their losses,

finally, when the sky turns black 

and there's nothing left to do. 

The closed windows now open up

and there's nothing to see 

but only angst to feel. 

When the night turns black

and the hour hand rests on twelve,

the town turns into a horrific place 

which seems more like a home

than a fragment of an age old fantasy. 

The dawn arises,

all the pain ceases to exist 

as if it has never been here,

and all the aggrieved residents go to hide

inside their hollow houses, once again. 

-The Loquacious Writes