Blessed
Rest is no cure for tiredness, the more you rest, that expands double the score
Dull, steady, boring bulge weary every second more and more
Blessed are those who suffer from the syndrome of forgetfulness
Spared from the dreadful ghosts of the memories at the depth of deafening emptiness
For no apparent rhyme or reason,
We become motionless wary of frightening nothingness
Neither up nor down, hanging suspended in the air whispering around
Call it empty euphoria appearing and vanishing like clusters of the winter clouds
Riding on the fast-blowing winds disappear,
without raining or thundering clouds
Walking dazed through part Illuminated and part darken memories lanes
The burden of the guilts weighs too much to face squarely
Or to withdraw from the horrors of unscanned
Buds and the flowers know only how to bloom smiling with sweet divine fragrances
and move forward
It does not matter whether it is in the garlands offered at the divine temples,
churches or in the wreaths offered at the silent isolated graveyards
Post Comments
Poetrysoup is an environment of encouragement and growth so only provide specific positive comments that indicate what you appreciate about the poem. Negative comments will result your account being banned.
Please
Login
to post a comment
Turn off ads, get more exposure for your poetry, and get more features with a
Premium Membership.
