And all of that Just for another line, To be just another poem.
A place in the globe (Or a space in the world?) To see life come to live In a way unseen before. No doubts, no reason to folly Only occupants of a nook Come to terms with a heart. The freedom of a cosy place, In the depths of your own thoughts Could there be […]
What is this death-wish I inspire? What is this twisted, fated path? Why do I bear the change of circumstance While you bring with you a change? How do things reflect themselves? How do things never change? How is it that even after all this time, Things remain the same?
Thunderous skies and walled homes Crash and burn and go up in flames– Up in flames, down as ash, And the memories, From forever ago, Become memories for the disheveled mind. Crashes and burns and cries for the lost Are merely the cries for the forgiven and forgiving.
To when the night sky is purged By the embers of a new hope– Let us not forget that we are nothing: Nothing, waiting to be found In the guise of waiting to disappear.
These questions that haunt (With ever-increasing importance) Lose their meaning In the death of language. Are we comprehensive about our comprehensions? An indefinite postponement of being understood Or maybe just of being heard.
Lost hopes and ashes– To dismember projections Burnt by insecurities, By overstepped fences. There’s only so much to endure When all you’ve given is met with insincere candour.