Yet Another Mortal To Be
This frustration strikes me each day
My efforts seem obsolete.
With every passing second i think,
if there's bliss i should ever meet?
Life has got stagnant.
Even the air seems immobile.
I search for refuge,
a friend of need, may be, for a while.
I search for refuge,
in poems of all might.
The darkest of them all
to me, seem just right.
I crawl helplessly
Battling the heart and mind.
But the world is busy it seems
To give a thought of such kind.
Freedom is all that i need now
I'm sighting an end thats truly mine.
And so there would be less to lose
And quit life,
something i could never define!
Copyright © Swagat Bhattacharjee | Year Posted 2011
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