I am bleeding
Clear skies turning ghastly and grim in my hollowed eyes
The fever in my brain wins with every vanishing second
The blank pages of my barely written story
Stares at the vacuum that weighs me down
The pen moves not once in my cold hands
As tears washed my loneliness
Tonight, I write for myself

The words have turned against me
Gaping wounds I often revisit
Raw, unadulterated, ever vulnerable
Fuel the art of this damnation, of this craft
I ask them despite the broken voice in my head
What more do you need?
Life is poetry, poetry is life
But it has cut too deep, deep, deeper
I am burned too harshly by the words
It has opened newer, fresher wounds
Buried secrets, once unknown become known,
I come facing old adversaries who never left

Soon, my own words will destroy me
What I started, the ones I raised in my fragility
Will shred me into pieces as they take everything I have

*Worst of it all,
I will stay still and let them

I hoped even if it wasn't easy catching big dreams
In my palms and not losing them in the streams
I hoped to have a poem with the best line
To be the best rapper and not just mime
I wanted to have the roughest car in this city
Yes, I needed a big monster beauty
I lusted to be upon a podium of fame
I wanted to burn with the brightest of flame
I had a fatal thirst to spread my tentacles
To be the lad who walked out of manacles
I wanted to oil the wheels of prosperity
A legend who preached against any disparity
I wanted to be the real hallmark of charity
The bravest enemy to injustice and barbarity
I wanted to be a beautiful bloom of peace
To let the world be spring of love and bliss
I wanted to succeed in all before I leave
I wanted to exit the world after finding what I believe
I desired to hold hands with my fate
I wanted to achieve whatever I did contemplate
I did everything, whatever was needed
That's how I succeeded