Dying was not worth
living. Your journey
starts for unknown.
Why were you fixated to
watch the small menā
milk the moon?
It was very expensive to
buy a decent death.
Religion makes it dirty.
Do you remember the myth
of Sisyphus? I love to
carry my rock without a face.
Not quality of life. It
was a matter of degrees
when you feel liberated.
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Author:
satishverma (
Offline) - Published: August 31st, 2019 21:52
- Category: Nature
- Views: 30
- Users favorite of this poem: Lauraš»
Offline)
Comments1
An exceptional write as always!
Accepting our failures as well as we do our accomplishments...
is an accomplishment!
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