May 2018
I was away for a while.
and I would be a fool if I tried to apologize
for taking the pen away when you needed to breath
but you've survived,
I've drowned you in my insane mind
and you repeatedly baptized.
And it seems like the only language you spoke was silence
yet the regret of agony is piercing in my ears
they say the hardest part of life is to heal
so I sat there impatient carrying a mind of a widowed man
and a heart weak as an infant - inhaling my empathy until traumatic memories exhale my lungs.
playing the blues on a phonograph and danced the grief away
its the melancholy that's banging on my chest; convincing me that I'm okay
It's the nights that hit rock bottom and built me by day
it's the thought of "I could do this all on my own"
and yet wandered vulnerable in the streets in misery
because I couldn't bear the horror on my backbone
it's the emotions we kept in hostage and doubted every good intention
it's the laughs in a full social room
and the mourning of emptiness inside
that sings funeral songs
and we sing along.
it's the celebration of madness; a suffering a way to exist
it's the pens not to be reached; chains on my wrists
it's the night that felt like thousand nights yet poetry spoke in lights
it's the fire we set just to warm others, and watched ourselves burn peacefully
it's the tests from God...God's mercy.
it's the sadness we thought it was, but it was all happy.
it's this life, the world of discovery
it's the love, the smiles of heavenly
it's the innocence, only the hearts can see
it's the struggles that we've adored peacefully
it's the unrecognizable mirror that built you through tragedies
it's you - the suffering you've romanticized in the name of illusion
it's you- that held the torch in the darkness and dreamt of paradise
you're the poetry I have never wrote
you're the words that are crawling out of a poet's throat
Oh, Passion?
where do you think you're going?
chasing you is like chasing the unpromised dreams
You've left a trail of forgotten memories,
I followed... only to find you and me.
and I would be a fool if I tried to apologize
for taking the pen away when you needed to breath
but you've survived,
I've drowned you in my insane mind
and you repeatedly baptized.
And it seems like the only language you spoke was silence
yet the regret of agony is piercing in my ears
they say the hardest part of life is to heal
so I sat there impatient carrying a mind of a widowed man
and a heart weak as an infant - inhaling my empathy until traumatic memories exhale my lungs.
playing the blues on a phonograph and danced the grief away
its the melancholy that's banging on my chest; convincing me that I'm okay
It's the nights that hit rock bottom and built me by day
it's the thought of "I could do this all on my own"
and yet wandered vulnerable in the streets in misery
because I couldn't bear the horror on my backbone
it's the emotions we kept in hostage and doubted every good intention
it's the laughs in a full social room
and the mourning of emptiness inside
that sings funeral songs
and we sing along.
it's the celebration of madness; a suffering a way to exist
it's the pens not to be reached; chains on my wrists
it's the night that felt like thousand nights yet poetry spoke in lights
it's the fire we set just to warm others, and watched ourselves burn peacefully
it's the tests from God...God's mercy.
it's the sadness we thought it was, but it was all happy.
it's this life, the world of discovery
it's the love, the smiles of heavenly
it's the innocence, only the hearts can see
it's the struggles that we've adored peacefully
it's the unrecognizable mirror that built you through tragedies
it's you - the suffering you've romanticized in the name of illusion
it's you- that held the torch in the darkness and dreamt of paradise
you're the poetry I have never wrote
you're the words that are crawling out of a poet's throat
Oh, Passion?
where do you think you're going?
chasing you is like chasing the unpromised dreams
You've left a trail of forgotten memories,
I followed... only to find you and me.
