Feb 2015
It’s dark, hard enough to see;
am lying drunk in memories,
the flashback stabbing me;
they said love is a disease.
I was scared, never believed;
know you had insecurities,
but you never said honey;
and we've missed opportunities.
How many times did I die?
wonder if I and you were we;
lost in abyss of nothingness,
walking the streets of uncertainty.
Being lost in abyss of nothingness;
I know there’s nothing to worry,
it will be fine; heard through grapevine,
promises echo in eternity honey.
Remember something?
when you said believe,
I did, I was in every word;
never knew you’d leave.
There’s no dream to dream;
like I've been drunk in misery,
was I delusional enough;
to not get it out of me?
So how many times I've to die?
wonder if I and you were we;
lost in abyss of nothingness,
walking the streets of uncertainty.
Being lost in abyss of nothingness;
I know there’s nothing to worry,
it will be fine; heard through grapevine,
promises echo in eternity honey.
~Shreya
P.S. My creation, please do not copy |© Protected | Image: Google
P.P.S. Work Of Fiction!
am lying drunk in memories,
the flashback stabbing me;
they said love is a disease.
I was scared, never believed;
know you had insecurities,
but you never said honey;
and we've missed opportunities.
How many times did I die?
wonder if I and you were we;
lost in abyss of nothingness,
walking the streets of uncertainty.
Being lost in abyss of nothingness;
I know there’s nothing to worry,
it will be fine; heard through grapevine,
promises echo in eternity honey.
Remember something?
when you said believe,
I did, I was in every word;
never knew you’d leave.
There’s no dream to dream;
like I've been drunk in misery,
was I delusional enough;
to not get it out of me?
So how many times I've to die?
wonder if I and you were we;
lost in abyss of nothingness,
walking the streets of uncertainty.
Being lost in abyss of nothingness;
I know there’s nothing to worry,
it will be fine; heard through grapevine,
promises echo in eternity honey.
~Shreya
P.S. My creation, please do not copy |© Protected | Image: Google
P.P.S. Work Of Fiction!
“There's something beautiful about nothingness, the eerie silence within, the emptiness, that hollow spot where you are mostly found, that yearning for isolation and disappearing from existence, refusing to be found again or ever again, completely repelling the presence of any other being. Echoes of nothingness are louder than anything I can hear. I don't know how mad I have been about living or existence, like I have been drunk in nothingness. When we are tired to find out the reason, guess we name it as nothing.”
