Emotions Flowing Like Ink

Life is a maze, one with a time limit. Everything you want to do, It all has an expiry. The merry is just delusional. The journey as quest as the purpose. Here we grasp the value of someone, How luminous when found, Yet so delirious when not. Hollows me out this feeling, Not knowing what the answer could be. Maybe that’s the complication of the maze, Or as I had feared, Love is a riddle, Too intricate to bear through agony. Perhaps for her, it’s not me, The jigsaw so elaborate that giving up seems easier, ‘cause everything that already materialized, Was is it a lapse? Please say yes to this at least. I need an escape from this, Am I worthy only of this cold ignorance? Or is another fantasy in store for me? So on my death bed, Will you be here or there?

There comes a time of isolation, When that is the only lead to satisfaction. The peace addictive, Yet the silence sometimes painful. An endeavor for contemplation seems inevitable, You look for a savior, Maybe in a friend, Or happiness in an object, Nothing really captivates you. A doubt starts to build, Languidly strangles you, Chokes you. Having a foot in each boat, Never reaching a destination however close. You reach out for guidance, Distraction from the self- distrust. And this is how you apprehend life. The proof lies in interpreting the lives around you, Those lives engraved in the pages, The paperbacks that calm your anxiety. It is that which contributes to contentment, The books, the experiences, Living many lives within one.