Poetry

I have started to worry if you are a myth?
Unbelievable mind's glitch?
Maybe just a false prophet's trick?

Please... Answer.

Let it be quick,
because my time still keeps to tick-tock.
You need to talk!
And I need an answer,
I am begging as jester, otherwise,
I will become a real disaster. Promise?

It had to be, so I was made as image.
But maybe, it is an image of doubt.

Still, I wanted you, you to be,
to be my strength in darkness...
Now your silence feeds my dark side.
Maybe I am dark-side. Apocalypse.
And you won't deny it.

So be it,
if you will never speak,
I will never quit.
Out of mystic cube
of questions to prove.