The Lost Me

Words are lost within the thoughts of mine

Can't be written in any language I know

Spoken letters had choked in my throat

Waiting for the demon inside to set them free

Messed up my mind, heart, and soul

Made them suffer from the hidden thorns

Offered me a cup of a poisoned lust

That can run through my veins and eyes

Lost all the control over my thinking power

Showed an empty brain with no thought or will

Not recognizing where and when should I search

For me, I lost while trying to find you

The prose is written for the broken soul within

For the empty heart and poisoned vein

For the forgotten breath in the carbon chest

Maybe then words will rest there in the piece

Or it may be me who will find peace