Loneliness, used to make me cry,
But now it has turned into my habit.
What are those silent noises?
Sush! listen,
That's the sound of grief.
Can you hear?
No! But you can merely ask,
"How are you doing?"
But would you secure the dead?
Would be a part of my dreamless rest?
I am a locked spirit.
Boxed in,
In the darkness,
I can only see my hand,
Ink stained.
A repeating nightmare,
Frozen and charred.
Is haunting me in the pitch dark.
I feel, I am abandoned,
Hand cuffed.
Grief and agony,
Weighing down.
A raging war of emotions,
In my mind.
What a rusted feeling.
Certain endeavors to fly,
But failed.
I am caged.
I am a bird, with wings clipped.
My broken heart,
Is almost killing me,
But then I thought,
I am already dead inside.
It's my tryst with death.
When it's dark,
Something I can see,
Is that my free soul?
Or is it the barbed wire mocking me?
Are those my fragile wings,
Which I had lost when I was a child?
Are those my torn T shirt,
Which was taken away because it was black?
Now my life is full of darkness.
Empty streets,
Don't haunt me anymore.
I think I am stuck in time.
In my mind.
The devil moonrise,
Curses me.
A chaotic search,
Of happiness.
Hope floats,
But the river is dry.
Post a Comment