Endless

The one who owes, or rather seeks redemption – crossing the limit, haunted. With explicit numbness that looks are aware, shaded eyes drawn to despair – yet another bites the dust.

Through closed-off window observing outside, while anxious heart refuses, confined – is this the future, is this still life? What is an answer to end this farce.

An endless, meaningless strife.

The deeds misjudged, to mend seem too late – of many reasons there are no paths ahead. Impulse to change blown right up my face. And what comes next, scares me.

The weight of remorse a heavy burden to bear, memories the plague – mind has failed. Seeking forgiveness, but can it be found? The road to redemption is a treacherous ground.

An endless, meaningless strife.

Stuck in a cycle of guilt and shame, not even hoping for the things to change. The past won’t let go, it holds on tight. How do I move forward, into the light?

An endless meaningless strife, a battle within. The scars of the past, a constant reminder of sin. Is there hope for a better tomorrow? Or is this a life filled, forever with sorrow?

Burning

How many times have I pushed the self-destruct button?

In search of a fresh start I cast aside the pieces, watching as my world burns to ashes before my eyes. It’s a personal, final act, yet each time I try to rebuild, I always find myself back at square one.

And so I start again from scratch.

But with each attempt, it becomes more difficult to find the motivation to keep going, the sense of accomplishment that propels me forward. The wind no longer carries me, but instead I must fight against it, battling a losing war. It should have the opposite effect, fuelling my growth in a world that seems so fragile.

Maybe I’m trying to escape the expectations that come with life, or chasing the dream of becoming something unique, existing outside of the lines that define human life. But it all seems foolish now. The chains of daily life are tightening, slipping from the things I care about, forcing me to do things that bring me no joy.

I know that life won’t ever be easy, that success won’t come without effort. But as much as I enjoy sour foods, I feel like I’m becoming sour myself. With a hopeless, dim outlook, I can no longer see the path I need to take.

3AM

3.00 am

Now that the thought of going to sleep
Seems mesmerising –
Soothing for some reason
I wish I could either go on
Or otherwise just be there hanging
For what is worth
My eyes would be there focused
Whatever
lies beyond I cannot see

Let it be the last time

Beat

I did see the colours
Perhaps, it did not matter
At that time – recollection
My heart would not skip the beat
Perplexed it felt instead
Slow to adjust –
Crippling sensation in hiding
For each that fell, longing
Everlasting fog-like burden
Distorts and cripples –
Sways towards long closed path
As if, neither of those little strands
Could ever pull a bit closer –
Light up and dispell
Agony, the choke-hold
Breathing the dust
My lungs – my life

Will it ever turn golden?

Indefinite

Indefinite
Safe to say –
It had to come

With no answers at hand
Suffocated within –
Numbness of comfort sham

Thus the reality does not appeal
And won’t entice
For many reasons though

Just roll the dice

Reckless the dream
Wild fire burning
Ocean that shallows the whole
Unwavered storms blasting through

Carried across the globe

None of these ever fear
All the primal forces
The Kings among themselves

As such I – little human

Fragile to nature
Fearful of dark
Whenever hearing –

You can be this, and that

Doubt the money
Prestige – whatever that is
A plastic that slapps the face

I really laugh at times

No longer tears
To water the earth
No longer faithful
That anything has changed

Glueable

It fails
Insures the process goes on
For whatever is built
With no certainty –
Bear without attachment
In content welcome the change
And ability to grow
Pieces of glass-bottle –
Perhaps not glueable
Though refurbished it can be
So for every mistake we do
Every direction mindlessly taken
We have all – I wish –
The second chance

The Obsession

If I recall her –
Short-brunette with mischievous smile
Looks at me, once, twice; makes me feel odd
Though for some reason I don’t want it stop
Even with no words
Simply by look –
Just like a fisherman
Delude it, onwards – hook
Either the gold-fish
More of a shark
Before my eyeballs –
The glow – the spark
It has escaped
Depths of the sea
Holds on to secret
I want to see

Tickle

Four walls have been watching –
Deteriorating into some alien form
Since no feedback given
Ignorant grew –
And whatever flourished prior
Had become distant
Resembled harsh winter
Within coldness remain
Though I was seeing –
Sun hiding before the night
Tickled my skin –
As if to invite
And play with it some more
Slowly, little by little
I may sprout again

Bear with me then –
Until I come out

Ps: Hello! Anybody still here? I know it has been a while, though I am now seriously considering going back to writing some more stuff, as well as do some more photography. Ever since the pandemics have started I could not bring myself to create anything I would consider decent. Maybe, just maybe, I will manage to crack the shell and join the community once more.

For now however, enjoy!

Keep in mind the photo is mine and you can see my small, humble library on my Instagram!

Longing

Trembles throughout
In a cold – outside
Having no drive
No direction, even
Saddened impression
Marks ones face
For brimming light
And warmth once longing
Where did I lost my heart
Gasping breathless
Looking high up the sky
Watching the snow –
That covers my eyes
Slowly falls over me