Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
 
Sabika Oct 2018
Alone again,
Like how it was before I was found,
Before I could hear a sound.

My head has turned bleak.
Slowly approaching my peak,
I find it hard to find the words to speak.

And the shadows seep into my cracks
by your command
doubt and drought invade this fertile land
as my world regresses in a state of chaos
and loss
and confusion
with the fusion of hope and contempt
to my ignorance and to your method.

You held me in your palm
and hear my imperfect soul cry from across realms
that shield me from the truth.
I become sad...
Am I mad for wanting better for myself,
better than myself?
Make me better for you.
Spiritual starvation.
Sabika Oct 2018
I've been caught grim.
There were lies and deprivation.
My lights were dim,
and in their faint spark I drew a constellation.
I mapped out my purpose
and with my focus
I paved my path towards death,
measuring each breath
that they are worthwhile.

"I'm going to die anyway,
I'm going to die anyway!"
The future is none of my concern.
A present from the present is mine to earn;
and from the past I grow to learn
that I always had a choice,
to flourish or to burn.
Sabika Oct 2018
Who is the see-er?
This intelligence that does not speak with tongue
but it speaks.
It does not see with eyes,
but it sees.
It limits me
and I limit it
to a 3D structure,
and give it parameters
as I water it down to a name
water it down to a concept misunderstood,
because whenever I try to fit it in a box
it becomes imperfect to an inexperienced imagination,
it becomes crude to an arrogant mind,
it turns to fuel for a feud
while it remains as a fact
and we're all left behind.
shoutout to those concepts/experiences that no words can do justice.
  Oct 2018 Sabika
stargazer
i have to keep myself together
for everyone around
i can't let them see my tears
can't make a sad sound

i should be able to open up
but something inside me cringes at the thought
keeping me locked up
tying me up in a knot

i long to break free
of these bonds i have caged myself in
i misplaced the key
sewn shut in my own skin

i need to release this pressure
this sadness needs to escape
find air that is fresher
i can't keep fixing it with tape

i need to rip the bandaid off
**** this fake smile
i don't care how you scoff
i need to be real for a while

let me cry
let me sob
let me die
let me throb

let me break open
split apart at the seams
i feel like i'm choking
on my own unspoken screams
the moment before the crash
Sabika Oct 2018
Hands shake, my eyes gleam.
It's a clear step forward,
or so it seemed.

Every night spent restless,
dissatisfied,
now adding up to what's about to happen.

But what if my foot hits a rock and I stumble?
What if with this very step I sprain my ankle?
How do I even walk again? What if I tumble?

Doubt is progress' worse enemy,
procrastination is the fake friend,
imagination is the inspiration,
determination will determine the end.

My fate cries
and I can see time rising again
as I stare in awe
at the golden sun.
Sabika Oct 2018
Words are inadequate.
They break within the sight of doubt.
To get through to you must I shout?
No.
Words aren't enough.
I'll speak through the devotion of emotion,
through the fixture of a picture,
pay attention to my sentence,
focus on its capture.
Through a painting, I'd show you a rapture,
but do not ignore its texture,
it could hide a rupture.

I won't speak to you with words,
I will put on a performance,
to be seen and understood,
to see and understand.

To speak to you, I'll drag you into my world.
To listen, will you hold my hand?
Try listening to someone speak without articulating their words, it sounds very much like they're singing.
  Oct 2018 Sabika
Ralph Waldo Emerson
If the red slayer think he slays,
Or if the slain think he is slain,
They know not well the subtle ways
I keep, and pass, and turn again.
Far or forgot to me is near,  
Shadow and sunlight are the same,
The vanished gods to me appear,
And one to me are shame and fame.

They reckon ill who leave me out;
When me they fly, I am the wings;
I am the doubter and the doubt,
And I the hymn the Brahmin sings.

The strong gods pine for my abode,
And pine in vain the sacred Seven;
But thou, meek lover of the good!
Find me, and turn thy back on heaven.
Next page