Thursday, April 01, 2010

Tired Dreams



The pain is a killer

When you cannot speak or cry;

Your heart seems stiller,

But you still can’t die.

Every hour your eyes are open

You feel the darknesss close in

Nothing feels good, no one

Every sound is a noise, a din.

Words struggle to form meaning

The brain is in an intoxicated fury,

Hands smash against invisible walls

That imprisons powerless will,

Voices insinuate and curse

And heart struggles on

Wishing to die every moment,

But too much of a coward

To take its own life.

Oh! The suffering of a mute soul!!

To live and die at the same moments

In excruciating pain.

The pain is the only thing

That feels close to life,

The only source of joy

To a dead corpse,

Something that tells it

It still belongs to earth

It has a life,

‘You are alive,’ says the pain

Till the barbs begin to slowly sink in

Extracting flesh from blood

And a silent scream whispers

Out of tired lungs

To pass beyond the grey sky dome

When the screaming is done

And the blood dries up,

There is nothing left

Nothing that is human.

Except the eyes,

Still staring at faraway dreams

Long dead and
buried.

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