Bryan Baltazar
Stories (2/0)
Lost to the Night
The deserted street, the hollow night. Emma Lazurus’s poem greeted him as he lifted his sight. Destitute, those words rang true no more. His appearance garbed and unkempt. Up ahead, the birch trees dropped their leaves. A car passed by but just passed by, quick to leave as the turn signal advised. Now that he thought about it, he might not be safe here this time of hour.
By Bryan Baltazar8 months ago in Humans
Sleepless
The solitude of night solemnly grabbed me by the hand, and yanked me from my slumber. I half expected sunlight to pierce through the window, but a bleak blue filled my room, instead. Tempting as it was to fall back asleep in the arms of darkness, those exhausting thoughts in the early dawn - the pestering song of silence - held a wanderer in a place of wanting. Wanting sleep. Wanting dreams. Wanting rest. Wanting.
By Bryan Baltazar9 months ago in Poets