Trembling
hand
Holding a
glass of scotch
Like
standing numb
Amidst downing
sand
Wake-up
Hold still
Do not let
it take over
Scream if
you must
Cry if you
will
Spill blood
if you wish
For smell of
it would keep you high
And will let
you bear the pain
While your
nerves get drained
Slowly,
silently
Fading away
In darkness
For that
being its sacred adobe
Where it
finds space to breathe
While
running away beyond lights, and in its slumber
As they call
you dead
Or drunkard
insane, if they wish
You must not
run away
While
burning down
Yet standing
still
For to fill,
the voids
To fill the
space, dried and falling around
What could
but your imaginations, be
Your
salvation
Would fall
through
And free,
you will
If not lost
in
Hollowness
of own shadows
By: Praveen
Parasar
Date:
23/09/2014
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