Those tears will fall again tomorrow,
These words will seem hollow.
I slowly rebuilt the walls tonight,
My salty tears mending each joint.
The travesty of selfishness is beautiful,
It lunges at you every dying moment.
I have yet again kicked myself,
My drowning has been in my own concoction.
Obviously yet again caring was my folly,
But this folly is an ancient phenomenon.
How do I explain my chronic paranoia?
Is there even a solution to my life’s parabola.
These paradoxes scream at me aloud—
Aloud asking me to be my father.
The man I fathom over many instances,
Seems like the winner of my battle cases.
I don’t wish to accept those rotten conclusions,
My outlook can’t be doused with those illusions.
I have fought long and hard enough,
The end will surely be even crueler.
I am not here to judge or convince someone,
Let me hope that I learnt my lesson this once.
Yes, all my words seem dipped in negativity,
You perhaps can’t read my broken history.