My breath seems like
coming to a stand-still
while it is stitching hatred
to my worn-out lungs.
In some mysterious ways
asking to stop sucking in air,
while I still pursue to live.

My grit decomposing and
breaking-up into tiny pieces of
horrendous curses I want to
cast upon people,
reeking of self-doubt
and deteriorating courage;
determined to cut my own wings
while I sew them back
with a needle of my diminished valor.

The claws of spiteful death
contracting over my burdened shoulders
and trying to separate
my already-extinguished soul
from my dispassionate body
while I try to set poor memories on fire
to stay warm and in this world.

The dust around my hands
reminding me of endless tortures
for stretching too far
for the undeserving ones
that each cell, each tissue,
the fiber, the skin
burnt in agony and finally turning into ashes
while I still touch memoirs of recollecting past
to feel those hands.

With Life turning my divine light
into pitch dark clouds
raining melancholy and doomed fate
while I am still trying to find my shining star
to create rainbows of faith and
thrive alongside Nature.

In the stillness of my calm, continuous efforts
I fought something I never knew
A monster devouring my senses, crushing the freshness of Life and
royally residing inside my head.

I grew a new seed of belief and hope.
The belief of being bigger than this monster,
The seed filling the vastness of the void
with each blooming leaves and flowers
to water my own growth.

It took me long enough
to light the lamps of confidence
and taking back the reins in my hands
instead of being controlled and
that is how I empowered myself.

3 Replies to “Stillness”

  1. A wonderful piece of poetry!

    1. Thank you so much Malcolm 🙂 How have you been doing?

  2. STOCKDALE2006 says: Reply

    Thank you!!1

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