I enter my empty room,
the air infecting my lungs with thrusting void,
Silence consuming thoughts and mind,
Darkness before, and darkness shall reside,
The absolute nothingness haunts my memories,
With the whiplash of broken dreams,
Here I am, in my self made doom,
Where silence and solitude breed
The will to leave thwarted by an obstinate destiny,
Forced to survive in the grave of my undying misery,
I look around my room, and the loneliness echoes my name..
Resonating thoughts of pure insanity, running over and over again
And there I am, with me,
And the hollowness of my presence screams silently upon me,
And there I lay on my bed, suffering this life, every single day,
Awaiting the unexpected twist of fate to protude,
that beholds within itself,
an end to this unforgiving silence and solitude..
Broken dreams and illusions are part of our experience which makes us stronger if we take it in a right way. We can be empty and destruct or we can rise up to another level and stay peaceful. Thanks for thought-provoking read and strong imagery. Best wishes. A.
This what you call 'self made doom' might for others be just a holy peace, free from psychopats who play games with other peoples' lives... The dreams had been broken a very long time ago - there's nothing left that you can still try to break...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
excellent metaphorical poem, well penned with deep thoughts...............10+++