There are 3 rough edges,
In the page with a hundred wordsInk stapled with memories, and Paying the soul for my hope deferred
Imagination tearing apart
Reality having intentions
It was the words they said, and wrote
With a scar of royal silver skyline;
The golden sunset roared
Cobblestones with thoughts failed,
Painlessly numbed us with the breeze
Life has seized the chance of death,
Depths of excruciating pain unhealed.
The death intensified thoughts
Incomplete sense of completion
Corrected the mistake of life
And shy hesitations;
Laughing with the cry of mystery
About lost agitations
Darkness laid light on the soul.
Ravages of temporariness,
Monuments of lost control
But at the end it’s a grave
The unheard words and smiles
Which no one would notice of,
No one hears their cries.
Sometimes it’s enchanting to drive down
The road of existence and nothingness
Where you just lay down for some time
Until you reach the abstract habitat
With no people and just that, darkness
Haunting you day and night while you
Are stuck in the cave of doubt,
But you, stay there, waiting for the light
You cry till your tears build a strong stream
Without realizing it’s already night…
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