Please allow me to wail
I care less for happiness than void
I crave for the spoils of my sin
They remind me of madmen chasing weaker madmen
A glum prisoner nurturing a poisonous tree
With weakness and with strength
The fruit it bears, fleeting emotions
YOU ARE READING
Rhythms From a Quarter Life
PoetryI will die the very moment this poetry collection is complete, not a moment more, not a moment less. Yet, what worries me is not death but never being able to complete this poetry collection. These are the rhythms resonating from a quarter-life.
