Angels, Demons and a Leftover
The door closed behind me
With a sharp, curious noise
I was looking bluntly….
Actually, looking for nothing.
Conversations, simple, formal
Some cliched paperwork…
I was feeling sleepy, kind of numb
Racing thoughts, awkward silence.
Window glasses, scattered raindrops,
An epic view of an off-peak outside world….
Where, at night, the street lights create an illusion,
A very mystic dream of life.
Beautiful faces, smiling, inspiring…
Through a gradual sense of solitude, loneliness.
In poems and prayers; in pieces of personal notes…
In songs of angels, demons and a leftover.
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