Most days feels like
I have forgotten about you.
As if you were a mere leaf ,
Floating in the air and then-
Getting lost in the chaos of the wind.
Those are days I feel like-
I am alive,
I am not just existing but breathing.
Those are the days I feel like,
The stars come out to play more,
Wherein darkness remains a shadow-
A rearview mirror-
When Sunday comes,
Everything comes rushing in like
Animals stampeding to the unknown.
Every promises ring in my ear
Like bells beckoning people to
Come for mass reunion.
When Sunday comes,
Every lies you marinated upon my soul
Waft through the air until I can-
Taste it, smell it-
And all my heart sees
is the emergency button,
And leaps forward to call for heavenly help.
All it takes is one sweep,
One glance of my eyes
And the flower shrivels,
Winter approaches,
The storm rages,
And then-
Soil is cast on the coffin
The service has ended.
YOU ARE READING
Forest OF Thoughts
PoetryYou can get lost in a forest but you can also find peace. You can get hurt or you can make the decision to find your way out of that forest. Join me through this journey of losing yourself, finding yourself, breaking yourself and finally healing...
