And for a moment I thought everything was alright
But amidst all the things that passed in sight
I am as significant as a grain of sand in the vast sea
I am just another poet in this poetry spree
A fixed character in my own ideas’ plight
Revealing its story with each step I write
Treading its path with each tear in flight
What is told in a poem but feelings so bright
What’s a poet’s pen worth if he doesn't feel the light
With each honest step towards the cliff, I sight
The full stop is in the poems
The full stop is in my life’s tomes
The books are hiding something, a mystery
I am hiding my feelings, my misery
I sought beauty in a life so dull
At least not living in agony's pull
A poem without purpose and a poet without verses, null
The glamour of words dares not come to me anymore
A mere look in the mirror brings years of despair's score
An empty shell
As if I never did dwell
Too weak to act
Too hard to love, a fact
Impossible to fulfill, my tact
I don't even know why I write this tract
It seems an unjust end to a pure soul’s pact
I think I’ve reached a point where nothing calms the frenzy of my mind
The storm of my soul, the restlessness I find
The beat of my heart, the tears of my eyes
I don't know if I remember how to breathe, my sighs
Anxiety took over me, it ties
I don't know the end or the hope, it lies
I don't know the memory, it flies
I’d love to live away from my mind’s ties
Maybe then... it wouldn't torment my skies



