As I walk out of this door
I promise myself not to look back at you
For you have already let me go
How easy it must have been for you;
As I never was 'the one' for sure
But I did leave a note; placed it under your pillow
It's a final word from me to you;
About how once we held each other dear;
And I did care then,
But now, I'm not sorry
And I hope you read it soon enough,
Before I fade away from your memory.

You might just wanted to keep talking,
Just so you could pass some time
And it all made me fall for how concerned you are
But now I know I made a mistake;
For thinking about how close we are
No, I don't mind if you wish to leave
We had good times, I can cling to
But I hope in all this time;
Out of all the promises you made,
You meant to keep a few

Dear heart, stay calm
Don't make me run so fast
Oh eyes, whom do you want to see?
Who's behind the door?
There's no one
The wounds have turned into scars
They don't bleed anymore
So why do you think;
Someone will care to come?
Sit silently and smile, as if;
There's no feeling to be freed,
No tale to be told.

I am here, breathing...
Living the days I've been promised
So as I travel from dawn to dusk,
There are countless things;
I might have missed

I carry on my chest, a burden of regrets
And run on a road full of thrones,
How I wish;
that all this pain would be enough,
To pay the price of my sins

Cause life does not spare anyone,
And now it's my turn.

Every day is like
Falling into a deep pit,
waiting to hit the ground
Hoping to reach home safe and sound
On my way, I tell myself;
"This  void inside  needs to be filled;
Somethings in life need to be fixed"
No one near me, seems to get a hint
So I keep it that way;
hide it all behind a wall
For even if they knew,
There's nothing much they could do
I see how they complain;
Still manage to live their life to the fullest
Maybe this is an art, I need to learn
Just to get rid of this pain
Cause God knows
How long will it take,
For everything to be better again.

I am, but just another soul
Not meant for this world
So why am I here, covered with skin?
What do I've to do during this sojourn?
For I am baffled with the idea of life;
As I grow older, I capture moments
I make memories, build a home
And when I finally sit down,
To cherish what I've done so far;
All of it is gone.

i, the writer, yet never am i pleased
whatever been penned down never succeeds
to my expectations, nor to my needs
for the meanin' of words seem to get ceased

i, the gardener, be sowin' this seed
whatever to be said shall never reach
for hearin' be all different to each
no poet am i, no artist indeed

i, be as just human, as i could reach
understandin' alone my heart shall lead
'tis knowledge upon which my mind does feed
no fame, nor admirers, that i beseech

i may be hopin' just someone to read
these ways my letters on paper do bleed

(or maybe how they be finally freed)

*
..love always...



عرفان بن يوسف © AH 08/03/1439