The undeniable pandemonium
Of the goose-chase
Running through him.
I see
Him succumb to fabrications
And I see
His desperation
His chase
Of eluding the vulnerability.
Each day ,
I see him
As the mundane wall
Behind his bed.
He laughed so much
But I saw through him
Just like he did
He saw through me
To find the dejection
I see him giving up.
I see the cries ,
I hear his pain
His sorrow
Him being engulfed
By an eerie sea
That existed in his head.
And I have no choice,
But to see him
As his thoughts wilt
As he gives up
Each day.
And to witness
The assault in him
Growing wilder,
How his days passed
So hollow
But I couldn't see someone else.
His fortress
Was so alone
Had no one
But just me.
A mundane wall,
Who saw so much of him
That it got exhausted
Of dieing with him
Each day .
He punched me ,
Sometimes,
It didn't hurt.
His audacious hostility
Manifested the war
That sleeved his thoughts.
And one day ,
The furore silenced itself.
The furore in him silenced itself.
He didn't punch me
This time
But his wrist spewed
At me
As it bled.
And I died again ,
One last time with him.
I still wanted to know
Did his grief leave
Or did the rage.
Was I the wall
Or the ones who gathered
On his birthdays?

Your mould yourself so more in writing that your words actually portray what's going on in someone's inner self.
ReplyDeleteYou're Fabulous ❤️ ... Keep this Spirit in You High Always... Hats Off & Claps On 👍👍👍👍