I know what it feels to be sad,
Feels like you should never be born,
When for you everyone has left.
No more I like the light,
How ghostly be the sight,
No soft feelings, no sensual senses,
Have drained that vessel of pride.
Crawling around like a leech,
Living on the acidic bleach,
Macerating blanched veins and limbs,
Consuming the seething frizz.
Not a word that I utter,
In endeavor to pronounce better,
Finally lost is my voice,
Closed with ineffable shutter.
I don’t see any morning,
Or hope of night’s turning,
It seems to be the end,
Where death is the most cunning.
Inspiring poem from a state of desperate! I liked the ending :)
ReplyDeleteI hope anything bothers you will keep away.
Thank you Jeevan!
DeleteDeep and dark.
ReplyDeleteIt's hard to go through this phase.
True! :(
DeleteTouching!
ReplyDeleteHeartily thank u for finding some appreciation...I can't anything but bitterness in it!:(
DeleteDeath is sure cunning. :)
ReplyDeleteLovely post!
You are right!! En it's torturous until the final silence percolates and steadies everything..!
DeleteWelcome to my blog! Thank u for visting..:)
Quite haunting. I am always surprised when young people come with with such writing.
ReplyDeleteha ha ha..I don't know why I am laughing after reading your comment..it seems you have a doubt on my age..!
DeleteWell I wouldn't put you to be at 35, reflecting back on life.
DeleteOoh, it eerie!! I felt strange while reading this...:)
ReplyDelete