Insomniac Thoughts

Hello readers.  Hope things are getting better for you all with time. If not, let's keep on taking a breather with every step at a time, just like Atlas Corrigon says " keep swimming ." Everyday feels more challenging, With an exhausting plea for peace, Every hope keeps diminishing, But my thoughts pull me back with ease.  The staunch stink of helplessness, Chokes with every tiny failure, Yet, in this phase of nothingness, The heart lives a little with nature.  The paradoxical behavior of morality, Chains the soul with no choice, But the endless battles of self-validity, Burns through the vividly broken voice.  We choose, we walk, We fall, we crack, Voicing every talk, With a newfound spark.  Cheers to the world for leaving nothing but fragments of hope scattered around just to leave a note of void. I'll burn through them and would still choose my voice, because having faith in your own pace and thought process is nothing but an honor to the source of your exist...

Hello, readers.  Everyday feels messed up but a blessing at the same time. Is this just me, or you feel the same too?  Anyway, stick to your intentions and thoughts, no matter how scattered they are. We tend to find pieces of peace more in little fragments of reality afterall.  For the poem I took inspiration from a web novel. I'm still reading it but the words of the author had a great impact on me and I couldn't stop pouring my thoughts on the Samsung Notes page. 😄 Share your thoughts in the comment section.  Wishing you a deserving and self-reflexive day ahead. 

  HOPE A poison the heart willingly feasts on, Worshipping the mythical light, an insane lovelorn, A demand so out of reach, yet still beseeched, The vulnerable heart stays adamant, helplessly bewitched.  Through and through the mind sings its quasi legacy, Moving on its path with staunch hypocrisy, Dwelling on the details having no solid roots, Clueless mind gorging on its tasteless fruits.  The weight of years, a chain of rust, Each linking a moment with a fragile trust, In the path darkness draws, hard and cold, A sunbeam waits for her to hold.  A glimmer of light, thin and frail, Just enough for the belief to set the sail, A sudden warmth, a spark of thrill, Urging to climb the unending hill.  "Is this really happening?" Ponders the moody mind, Knowing the warmth of light, a loyal foe of humankind, Plants a seedling full of plausible dreams, Only to leave behind a tree of broken screams. As if on cue, the light recedes from view, A delusion in disguise, an e...