How would it feel, to not feel?
Perhaps it is a joy on its own.
No secrets to conceal, no thoughts to reveal,
No need to act like we're tough in the bone.
But what is life, if not to feel?
Like robots, our souls will tread on Earth,
With no purpose to live, our minds sealed,
Left to question our mere existence's worth.
We live because of our ability to feel,
The brick upon which sustenance thrives
We laugh, we smile, we cry, we see,
And most importantly we feel alive.
|| RidzFameen ♥ ||
Dear readers,
I apologize for not keeping up with my schedule. I faced some technical problems which (I think) have been cleared now.
Anyways, I hope you're having a good day!
God bless. :)
YOU ARE READING
Bleeding words (Poetry)
Poetry"Raise your words, not your voice. It's rain that grows plants, not thunder." - Rumi. Words. They can kill and they can heal. They can hurt and they can reveal. They are written and they are thought. They are read and they are bought. They are w...
