Being an Introvert, Doesn't mean being aloof nor rude It is rather an art of living....alone Our shyness is mistaken for insolence And our being alone for having an attitude Our trusted companion(mind) gives all the company that is needed It fills us with thoughts so deep, Another would drown in them Feeling are so pure, Angels would bow down to them
Words catch in my throat. A thousand fears chew at my fingertips. Terror... Valour.... Loneliness. It all amounts to shadows on the river. Lights play over living currents, Her fluid movement Shifts the gleam across the waves. Courage is a trembling lip, A denial of self, A strangulation of excess emotion; Amidst temptation... Amidst the tempest... Amidst self doubt. Somewhere the steel of your jaw becomes more than a daydream. Morphine can't even ease this pain. I lose my breathe. I wait for death. And yet, somehow, I wake again.