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.
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.
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