Building Rom Vol 131

If you ever learned 

how it feels to be dead and still walking

To drift through days as a ghost,

Cause no once knocking 

Wearing a heart that no longer beats nimbly,

Cause no one’s coming

Its rhythm lost to a symphony of sorrow,

Like your black coffee

But somewhere, deep in this muted core,

A seed remains, stubborn and small,

Whispering hope to the void in your lungs 

That even dead things can still rise

 and bloom once more.