I am incomplete,
Stripped, of feeling and dignity,
Naked,
Pain, love, serenity,
are alien to my body.
If this is the end,
Then why is there ever a beginning?
When I fondle my conscience,
It just returns an indifferent shrug.
The king is dead,
so are his people,
the saint is dead,
so are his believers.
Nothingness stares at me,
while I gape inside,
Like a limp bird,
that never even wanted to fly.
Come, take me, my time is up,
I've hurt enough people,
and have helped some.
The curse of ignorance,
is heavy with vacuum,
The promise of a new day,
has ceased to mean volume.
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5 comments:
May I know what is the inspiration for this poem and what it is all about?
What it is about is pretty complex dude. But what it says that I can't feel a thing these days. I'm numb.
http://arnabloveslife.blogspot.com/2011/04/stumbled-again.html..do post ur comments whatever u feel..
How you felt will stay with you like every other memory you have. And you will regret that no-one except you understood it. To understand this you need a mirror. So that someone who you had feeling for you has to empty his feelings to understand.
I have come to realize that there is no point of regret when what you feel is not understood by anybody. It just means you are unique and special. And one should just stop thinking at that.
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