The world around me grows eerily still,
there is a somber, sad silence crushing down on me.
My movements are slow, as if in a dream and my one desire is just out of reach.
I hear your voice,
though no matter how hard I look,
you are unattainable.
I am weak, in a sleep-like state.
And you, you are on your pedestal
like the god you want everyone to believe you are.
But I know different,
You're anything, but god-like.

- Hannah Jo, 2009

Labels: drabble, rambling, world