motions on motions
but we keep on forgetting
to carry love for ourselves.
•
notions on notions
but the concept of light
slips between our fingers
like quicksand
until we're stumbling,
completely blind.
•
and now we wear the dark
like one should reckon home.
we love our pain
those paths
where eager thorns bloom.
•
they stem from our dread
they play with our heads
we whisper our fears:
people submerged in tears.
•
how did such a dream
wilt and lose its colour?
how did life's garden
become so forlorn?
•
when did we stumble?
when did we die
to the vibrant experience
of being alive?
22:22
22.12.22
YOU ARE READING
A Diary of Soul (Unedited Version)
PoetryKnow Thyself - Socrates Have you ever felt like a stranger to yourself? Like you're here, but lost? Just another performing mask in a sea of faces? Another wandering being made of dust? • Finding yourself and healing amidst dark moments of life i...
