Coming out of the cemetry,
Faith, does not tell you the truth.
Becomes chaste innocence,
Of imbeciles.
How shabbily life treats you sometimes?
Tossing you on garbage, squeezing
your brain, smashing your marrow
and turning you into pulp.
We are all eyes, but no vision.
Ownership of a spinning pain,
does not entitle you for a liberation
and a gift of guardian pendant does not protect you.
Brutal hanging to sever off the neck
was not crucial.
I wanted to know
who was afraid of whom?
Would one wish the mortician was a necrophiliac when their twin's heart stops counting time? One last dance, one last cold glance in the mirror. To be shattered isn't a shame. Facts creep out of the ground sometimes, after having put so many to rest.
good poem......keep writing..... afraid of whom as there all are... human as you and me so why afraid of whom..... wonderful expression of life truth...... thanks for sharing 10++
Perhaps you question life? Or perhaps you question death? Your words eloquent and true, How profound, how rich, I'm just speechless.....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Eternal question.