Tuesday, January 1, 2019

Soul Black

We’re never left with a breath to think
There’s no time to count days
Or our indistinct memories of blessings
We’re just on the edge of falling lonely.
There’s no rush though, we’re not in love
We’re not in songs nor in italic inscriptions
Yet; but we’re in hearts of envious unborn
For death is a one-way going
No looking backwards
No recalling of the last step
For there’s no standing, no sitting
No lying, no walking, no flying
For in death there’s no being.
In a man-made era, unorthodox is sinful
We’re too connected to go through
Each other. But heck we’re too broken
We’re trapped in the cage of free[doom]
Sometimes I wonder where we came from
The way was erased behind with lies
That we’re one, that we’re together
Yet we’re distant like heavens
Strangers
There’s the shadow roaming in our souls
Ask my fellow poets, their journals know better
It’s a timeless feeling, a die-hard friend
Why does it sound so dull, empty and sour?
In the inside
Why do we have to paint it grey?
To look artistic and cool, and seemingly fine
At the outside
When the creeping night is to peel off the curtains
To unclothe the shivering soul
And open the tap of despair
We cling on the thought that we’re not alone
In the sinking boat
When I can wail to the lady beside me
On my way to town but never get heard
When I walk in earphones listening to nothing
Just…just to…you know why if you’ve ever done that
Now tell me that you care before sunset
For I’m never alive at night
I die on old songs, old days
Old memories that will never reoccur
Tell me that you love me now
Tomorrow I’ll be gone.



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