Neither am I laughing,
Nor am I crying.
Neither am I living,
Nor am I dying.
Neither am I happy,
Nor am I sad.
Neither am I loved
Nor am I hated
They say, I'm mild,
Just like autumn wind.
Existing for no reason,
Serving no purpose.
Neither am I creating,
Nor am I destroying.
Neither am I grateful,
Nor am I hateful.
I whisper silently to myself,
In the cover of night,
What purpose do I serve,
What is it for that I suffer?
A mere existence,
Without bonds or reasons,
Free to live and die but yet controlled,
Is that all what I am?
YOU ARE READING
Tale Of Heart
PoesíaOur heart is a delicate being, yet it is connected to us deeper than anything else...it gets hurt at the slightest discomfort of the mind..so here is a meager tribute for our strong but delicate heart ♡
