I have forgotten to play
With the painted hues of life,
When all I remember is
To dance heedlessly with my shadow
In the fearful dark
As the silence of opera chimes with a spark.
I have forgotten to write essays
About my illusionary fantasies,
When all I remember is
To feel like an abandoned blank paper
As every drop of ink disappears
When touched to my soul filled with tears.
I have forgotten to celebrate days,
Falling dusk and splendid dawns
When all I remember is
To only play desperately
The melancholic drama,
In the paradise of my venom trauma.
I have forgotten to breathe,
In this conscious universe,
When all I remember is
To lose my attachment with the world
And dwell in the deep pool
Of delusion that declares to rule.
YOU ARE READING
Rhythm Of The Poem
PoesiaHello everybody, I'm Darshita. Writing and reading has always been my passion. I love to write poems and whenever I finish writing one I always leave a piece of mine in it. It is a place where one can find the truest and the most realistic self of m...
