Holding my breath, head is up,
sitting over land, land’s full of sand,
hands grabbing scotch, drinking and cursing my life,
that I ruined with my very hands.
Analysing the situations I’m in, learning where I stand,
days of sorrows, nights of cries, pains I borrow with the sweaty eyes,
That’s my life, a bottle of poison and a glass with ice.
Life full of cries, full of lies,
I’m no saint, yes I lied,
but for the good and selfless content,
happiness I tried, not my cake, I can’t pretend.
Looking at the roads and there I see walking people,
all seems lost, faces reflects the struggle.
No death, no threat, no luck,
What the fuck?
Stuck in life, trying to create my fate,
life is moving, slow is the rate,
mate, logic that triggered while feeling the shiver,
drops doesn’t bother, mother of the rivers.
May be slow is the rate, but till this date,
people I lost, memories I earned,
account of what I can’t generate.
I’m synonym of misery,
my character is a mystery,
people want fame in this dirty game,
I was of same kind, I too ran behind.
I achieved and I left, what I guess?
How great maybe the victory,
you can’t survive just on a lottery,
Thus I wait for the time when I’ll be the history.
Stay away and don’t come close,
you won’t withstand, I’m curse to your strength,
my faith is visionary, my love is poetry.
My words are mine, strengths me up,
nowhere divine, but acts like calories,
note to the person who’s gone,
Author- Vish

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