Trap in an isolated era.
View me as faceless persona
Of make-belief identities
In this world filled with fantasies.

I write because I am tired,
To pen the burden in this poet’s ride.



*© Pax

My heart is in throbbing tone
My hands are as cold as stone

Sleepless, I become restless
Shortness of air, I become breathless
Controlling emotions seems helpless
An emotional distress

In the realization of my hyperventilation
I get dizzy and sleepy
My mind is on overdrive worry

Voices have strained my mind
And the Echoes have drained my body
Into a slumpy Winnie.


*© Pax

Blood soaked hands in the land where I am forgotten
          -   The ugly amongst the fallen.
I am the coward amongst the monster.
      My plea for strength didn’t matter,
        for every challenge I get weaker.
More scared than I was, so I hide fast.

As I flee, never did I enjoy any glee.
Freedom is not free.
In this land I bleed with my creed.
Stupid me!
|
Yet I don’t mind, I am just one of the foolish kind.

*© Pax

Damnation of the Mind
In Society’s eyes, I commit a Crime.

Freedom mistook as a Sin
“For I’m always right”, says the Red Queen.

I scattered my scrappy writes
In this forest full of lies

I am as good as dead
For I am never needed
Naked to the bone
A far away star, I am alone.

“I am your salvation”, says the Holy King
I oblige for that’s what I think is right, Lamenting
Oh, Holy king, I can’t stop wondering
The man made crisis keeps on repeating
Driven by powerful Need
They hunger for what they don’t Need

I am in a brink of exhaustion
Many hides in the facade of beautiful illusion
Creation for an easy solution

Abundance is slowly fading
Our soulful purity is slowly dying.

*© Pax