Sunday, July 28, 2019

Words...

Scribbling: 
Tragedy of Wanderer: 

“I was born among words 
Grew up among them 
Saw them see me 
Rise above the grave 
Still marked by the trails of, 
tears and wounds 
Lost nights and stifling days 
Silent cries and trembling laughter, 
Only to realize suddenly 
I had overgrown them 
There were no words left anymore 
Neither darkness to comfort 
Nor brightness enough to hide beneath 
Left stranded 
I still await  
Another word  
To suffocate me 
Another word  
To sing me a lullaby  
One more word 
To sleep with 
One more word  
To wake up with 

I await 
Another birth 
Another death 
Alas…!” 
Praveen Parasar
28/07/2019
at

No comments:

Post a Comment

Subscribe to: Post Comments (Atom)

Perhaps...

“Perhaps Love isn’t the answer Perhaps Love isn’t enough Perhaps Beyond the desperation To reconcile Beyond the attempts Of accept...

  • Free Fall!
    “Free fall, into an abyss, he imagined and bent himself. He imagined falling down and down, till he reaches end of it, end of darkness,...
  • The Night!
    "The night was young and he was drunk, wandering in the darkness, looking for North Star to position him at the edge, to save him f...
  • Tragedy of Wanderer!
    Scribbling: Tragedy of Wanderer - “For most of moments he ended up talking to himself, his own mind and heart, working in tandem, creat...