Am a swallow who’s fled from this world; to reside in a personal inferno! I fell into the hands of a virtual nomad; who got lost between what was unsaid & untrue.
Like a greenhorn I followed him & ventured; into making a promise that I can’t undo! Until finally I found myself crushed; in a ravine by the ailing tide of an echo – of a heart’s feelings that weren’t returned! With no hope, trust, or creed;
I woke up to find a residue – of what used to be me & a billow of what I heed! Time rolls my dears with such great speed. Before I could realize it, I had nothing more to ensue; not me, not my life, but now definitely the need – to fight & stand up for what I want to see push through.
Choosing him was a fatal wrong indeed; but am sure he’s the kind of med. I won’t spew. So am thanking him for giving me the wake up call I need! And though my eyes might not be mellow; nor my voice that of a reed; am not easy to subdue; nor am I packed with pride!
Hope we meet again in the years to follow; to see the challenge he’s left me to concede; cause am a Swallow who will always be far from what’s Wallow!
A philosophical question for anyone who has an idea. Imagine my hands are a set of scales. In my right hand I hold this crazy little thing called love. You can choose anything you want to place in my left
Mystery within my seizure: Who are you? Who are you? Why are you leaving? Where are you going? I uttered these words during a seizure. Imagining you puts my mind under pressure. Searching for your identity is like a hunt
The pulse seems tranquil and still, But they don’t have blood in it filled. Strange, the brain is at bark within. Why this uneasiness seems like an attaching shark? I do sit and endeavour to settle it down, But for