Poetrics

Warped

Just some piece of writing I wrote last night, as I was beset again by depression and melancholy. It’s been a while since I was afflicted by such forceful dark emotions again— only to find solace in self-therapeutic poetry.

I do wonder how long this placebo will work or last. But until then, I hope this will find its way to resonant hearts who, like me, are but shooting stars at dawn.

Thank you for reading. And thank you even more for trying to understand.

I wonder how we would see
Each moment now in eternity;
Will they reflect timeless regret
Or joyful memories we can’t forget?
Will it even matter— our trivial pains
Compared to our everlasting gains?
But still, it’s true
The loss, world askew
Of life seen from the lens of tears
Or broken mirrors of our numbered years
The past of futures that could have been
A present ambiguity of what’s meant and mean
Where men still fail to grasp their heart
Where words elude and discover art
To break free from the shackles called today
Gaze beyond a glimpse of tomorrow’s display
And hope—
Hope, that in that grim horizon, lies
One chance, one dream
Where happiness comes to he who tries
Where cruel fate and destiny sleep
And time’s but a story we keep
Maybe then I’ll know
Where all of my teardrops go
When the breeze steals them in the night
And hides them among the starlight.

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