A garden of humans and machines,
Vegetative movement, deaf sound,
I wait nature to gather the means
For its movement through time, next round.
A beautiful green circles my view,
It drowns me in silence and peace,
So many colours, old and new,
Imbuing my mind, piece by piece.
I try to take hold of the fire,
To ingrain stillness in my heart,
To stop moving, but I am a liar
And from stillness I am yet far.
A garden of deafening screams
Animates and troubles my soul,
I need to calm down, I need to chill,
I need to re-normalise my flow.
Laziness is perseverent
In darkening the mind's judgement,
Shades of black are reappearing,
Turning my being indulgent.
The wild fire blackening my deep wound,
Knows all things to which I am bound,
Now I struggle to know no sound
In the forest which I have found.
YOU ARE READING
Coming to the surface
PoetryA slow, yet sincere greeting to the world through verses and emotions. A public diary meant to hold all the secrets of a person. Of myself. Trembling with excitement I will put my soul in every verse in future hope that I will be able to reach someo...
