So
There are a thousand things to write about
But how many do I happen to understand?
Like a floating leaf that has lost its branch
I'm succumbing to gravity in history's gallery.
One wonders about the destination of eternity
An endless dark tunnel with mirages thrown in
Under what circumstances was it even born?
Moment capsules, exploding every now and then.
Or
Should I write about the lady, vanquished in love?
Her eternity, now reduced to a sudden collapse
Like a phoenix that strives to rise above the rest
She wishes to soar, as leaves crumble downwards.
Now
Like millions of my words, the poem escapes you
Each word is her footprint on my chiseled interior
She is like the white you find around a broken tide
It's where, hidden in mirages, my eternity survives.
There are a thousand things to write about
But how many do I happen to understand?
Like a floating leaf that has lost its branch
I'm succumbing to gravity in history's gallery.
One wonders about the destination of eternity
An endless dark tunnel with mirages thrown in
Under what circumstances was it even born?
Moment capsules, exploding every now and then.
Or
Should I write about the lady, vanquished in love?
Her eternity, now reduced to a sudden collapse
Like a phoenix that strives to rise above the rest
She wishes to soar, as leaves crumble downwards.
Now
Like millions of my words, the poem escapes you
Each word is her footprint on my chiseled interior
She is like the white you find around a broken tide
It's where, hidden in mirages, my eternity survives.
No comments:
Post a Comment