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January 19, 2013



Seated at the window,

Thinking of the performance,

Master of puppets,

Perusing the page,

Scribbling into oblivion,

because  the body despite being deformed is able to.

But the blood feels frozen,

The head is dangling looking for a measure of hope,

The rope stood beside the figure,

Trying to investigate,

What keeps the soul going,

What keeps the feet on the trail to destruction,

Even when the journey longs to be aborted.


Till the day the stars understand ,

Why they bond with darkness.

Why the sun as much as it reflects light,

It cannot reflect the hopeless phenomenon

The truck keeps moving.

Luggage empty filled… deceiving the eyes,

Fearing the keen ones will perceive

That inside is just a world thriving in doom

As the invisible lead the voyage

They’ll strive to remain passionate

As much as they are trapped in a maze

Trapped in the haze…


From → dark poetry

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