I lay soft on my ordered grave and feel
The life in my hands one more time,
As I stretch them out, into the shiny night
And try to complete my last harmless crime.
The currents of stars sways me swiftly
As I bounce around on the sand of loom,
With nothing on my back, none in my brain,
I fly across, above my written ol' doom.
Is it suspicious to feel good in the worst,
Or when you're supposed to feel nothing?
Does time that craves itself to be completed
Ever become unattended, left fresh in longing?
The more that the humans think of life,
It has always proven itself to be bigger.
Some has hoard to win this race with no line,
Some has proven to be short-timers.
I enjoy the sound of living creatures,
Machines and all other noisy deviants.
When the layer of silence forms thicker than fog
I hear each one, distinctly vibrant.
Your past means nothing to your future,
Choose wisely what you do with the present.
You're walking now, each step with the world,
When you'll die, it won't stop for a peasant.
The marks of your colours will fade, soon or late
And will pass on to new one in spotlight.
So what's with the effort to try and stay longer,
When you can make your present larger than life?
Cherish your love, bloom with brothers,
Take those chances that you once drafted.
Paint the canvas with the blood of your passion,
Let future admire your life that you crafted.
"Our lives are defined by opportunities, even the ones we missed." - Benjamin Button
YOU ARE READING
A Quarrel in the Brain Park
PoetryJust some poems I wrote, at different points of my life. Hope you relate to them at some point. Also to remember, it's a collection of poems so there are many genres. See if you'll like either of them.
