standing atop this cliff,
washing ashes of my past
charred soul,body and sins...
facing the winds of change,
blowing on water surface,
ripples have turned to waves,
splattering on rocks,
overlooking the recklessness,
of sea...
a swinging bridge
to civilized habitat, shudders...
i can't decide, where i belong
it's cold and wet here,
but peace and serene
its warm and nice there,
also turbulent and mean...
bleak and dark,infiniteness
over glowing bright end,
journey or destination,
truth or pretence...
happy or content,
arrival or presence,
soul stirring or stimulant,
watchful or negligent,
to what extent
to what lengths,
do i have to follow
in the footsteps...
A cold sigh,
lay here ,die,
legs are weak,
power to speak
is gone,
bleak glimmer of hope,
knot end of rope,
lie, here at my feet...
image courtesy: google images
~thefallenpoet~
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