



The sands of wistfulness
When the closebys are nebulous
The distant a figment of
The fatalist imbeciles.
The granules slip away
From my nonconformist grasp
Tearing me up as they go go
With eyes dying to cry.
Helplessness is, as helplessness was
A shrieking heart of despair
An angry mind of iconoclasm
Fast drying up as wistfully.
I will corrode, I will fade away
I will die, I will cry
I will kill myself, but not kill
The being of mine, that make me.
Kill me if you can. I can't describe here or in in words what this poem did to me. Beautiful, is all i'd say, here.
Also, uncannily reminds me of a piece of poetry I wrote about the engulfing feeling of 'dying'...its called 'Epitaph'. Wrote it and read it myself only once :) May share it sometime. If I dont corrode or fade away, i.e.
(Deepali/Dipz)
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