The desert in the heart grows barren by the day
Where yellow buttercups once grew
Scavengers are picking the bones bare
What happens to the part of me that lies there?
No one can hear these wounds weep
I have shut my ears to them, too
But before I leave my memories behind
Sanity I must find.
I will be strong
And tomorrow will be a new day
But will it really be courage or cowardice
To turn my back on all of this?
I bury the truth in a gaping hole
Not enough sand to cover the grave
Maybe the dust of time will make me forget
That we ever met.
Regret in each step that takes me away
Guilt in the backward glances
As I take my chance to live a lie
Till the day I die.
7 comments:
Nice depressing poem... :)
Nice oxymoronic remark, Nishant :)
Bide your time till you reach
An Oasis of the day,
Looking back and looking naught
You will win all battles you fought.
It is comforting and safe. Write more. I like your stuff.
Nice one Isha !! I like it :) infact took some inspiration from your post and wrote my own version...though you would not agree and although the essence is NOT the same...but the "seed" is. Your branch and my branch are from the same roots ..aiyoo..it became too philosophical ..hain na?
Yeah... I agree with the 'seed' being the same :) Though mine is directed inwards and yours is more outward. Right?
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