Turmoil

A logical argumentative head
An unbending egoistic heart
Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
The ticking hourglass
Shrouded by the veil of procrastination
Opened up and left to bleed
Burnt by something as white as snow
I grasp at shifting silhouettes
Cling onto misty hopes.
Azure evenings give way to stormy sunrises
Dreams and hopes speckle the spotless skies
Am all threadbare, buried in sin,
Like sand between my fingers
Fear slips by.
No art without agony,
No music without melancholy,
No poetry without pain.
I planned to change the world,
A truce without a tiff,
An if without a but,
A world without the world.
Slowly but surely
Doomsday beckons,
Slowly but surely
The sun will set,
Surely but steadily
To the grave will I go.