This Side of Paradise.

15th December, 2016.

This side of paradise is mine.
It's mottled and it creaks with every step
and the ground feels cracked
as my shadow walks over it,
carefully treading, trying not to break anything.

Here my wounds heal quickly,
though it's argumentative,
whether my residence here is justified or not,
as it's basically dead, sepia toned.

This side of paradise is mine,
as mythical as it sounds, here I keep my gods,
designed on my own,
and there are no great expectations,
they are just devices,
advocates of my jest.

Wayward and broken,
this side of paradise,
with its grayed skies,
with a gloom air of despaired songs,
is perfect for dreaming,
and be nothing but ethereal.

Here I reside.