134 - I have promises to keep...

And miles to go before I sleep. And miles to go before I sleep.

I am away from sleep by just a few metres. Safely stashed is my aid.

But, I have promises to keep. And I shall live by them. I have 2 fathers. Both of them I protect from me. Both of them I damaged beyond repair. Both of them, I have given trouble to.

Both of them decided distance is better. Both of them told me in their own ways what a brat I have been.

Both of them believed I am flawed but beautiful in their eyes.

Both of them are wilting. And dying. And yet, both of them... They gave up on me. They walked away. To live a little bit of their life.

I couldnt have been happier for them. They made the right decision. I would have hated to live with myself knowing I was eating them up.

Happy fathers' day.

131 - I breathed the last.

Tired of life, today I breathed the last in my metaphysical world.

A worst nightmare after all, eventually came true. Not only have I been judged, but I also got punished this time. If only had I known punishment would be so terrible, I wonder would I have stayed away from the sins I have supposed to have committed to?

Lot of people walked away. It didnt matter. I tried living my life. So, why should it matter today? Life has to move on. Alive or dead. It shall. The only moment of prayer I gave to my soul was a pause. Enough to kill the moment.

Enough of this madness. I move on. Into nothingness. In the hope that I should stumble upon a oasis someday in my desolate desert.

Am I depressed? No, I just feel numb. And I hope it stays that way. I dont take pain killers ever. Dont want to start it now. But I know when the numnbess wears off, I shall be dancing around the gates of hell.

130 - This was my space

And I decided to take a break from this. From my so-called space and place.
Emptiness is not a factor of poetry. Poetry even in the worst of times needs hope. Looks for hope. A sliver of it.

I see the first rains of the season today. I see a lot of curious faces peering out of the windows. Hope of water. Joy of water.

Me? I love the greyness of the sky. Disturbing greys that reflect my broken soul. Soon to be a broken everything. You say hope? Oh no, hope got killed and turned to ashes on a summery morning.

Me? I love the rains too. They are a signature of my overworked eyes.

Me? An empty person who is but an ice berg wrecking happy cruise ships.

Me? A spirit who is but traversing into nothingness today.

Me? Not me. Its the kids. The future. The hope. They live.

Me? Not anymore me. It's just nothingness.

129- Poet.

Neither wanted the morning.

Darkness was more comforting than the brightness of dawn.