Once again, I crave an audience with my gone self.
Once again, I reckon.
For closure is just a word, spit on my streets by fugitives of the heart.
Brimming with charm, and squalid souls.
Once again, I’ll return to bed.
Like a fallen soldier in the battlefield, but all he has the world to show is a bruised ego and inconspicuous scars.
They will wail and tell you
To see the light in splendid fashion.
But be wary traveler,
For they invited you to the party of thoughts,
Morbid and trepidated.

8 Comments Add yours

  1. Jessica Punj says:

    Why do I feel like I know this COMPLETELY?

    Liked by 2 people

    1. Perhaps, everyone experiences it.


  2. Dakshali Gupta says:

    Beautiful !
    Specially, I like the comparison with the soldier .

    Liked by 1 person

    1. Thanks a lot ! 🙌💕


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