Drip, drop, and drool
- Reads 26
- Votes 4
- Parts 4
Ongoing<5 mins
Last published Wed, Mar 4, 2015
When my fantasy, emotion, and impulse engulf me, poems like the ones I have here in this poetry collection, "Drip, Drop, and Drool", just flow into pieces of paper I could grab in that very moment. Random thoughts flow spontaneously that I tend oblivious of the theme being crafted thereafter. I mean no harm nor insult to anyone or anything implied or explicitly stated in this work of literature. It's purely fictional and mere coincidence, if any.
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#3
supplication
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For those who belong nowhere, those who walk the face of the earth on their own, carrying their hearts in their palms, holding everyone together while they dissolve into air. So many souls are homeless, may it be their home. May they find peace in knowing they are not alone, if not, at least they won't feel as stray as I once did. The word is haunted. Not by ghosts. By a maybe. By the soft echo of a woman who once lit his path out of darkness. A woman who no longer remembers his name... But who still lives inside every choice he makes. He was not made to follow the rules. He was made to make them. Where a match may light a room, A flame like him sets a whole world ablaze. In this story, Truth wears a mask, and order is just chaos in disguise. His world, at last, reveals its true face, when he sets it on fire.
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