Floating.
A part of me is slipping away.
The clock's arrows speeding.
Once tight hold loosening
Until I can't feel it. Touch it no more.
Far beyond reach
Far beyond what my mind can comprehend
Blurring
While I'm lying dead-still. Quite Disabled.
Feels like floating.
A part of me lost. Stolen.
All of me dying , except my pen
Writing is my only solace.
//5.8.18//
YOU ARE READING
Nirvana
Thơ caShe sets the ink free, let the pen crawls, and the words flow like a sea. Again, she's lost in her nirvana. #175 in Poetry [28/2/18] #8 in Overthinking #3 in Musings #18 in thinking (out of 1K+) #95 in words (out of 1K+) #373 in poems (out of...
