Where do I even begin to search for this relief?
As foreign as it has become, it seems as though it chose to part ways with me.
Like did all those whom I thought to be my allies.
In search for this admiration, it seems like the light behind me is closing, yet I cannot seem to reach any end.
Did I pray for something to get stalled like this?
The high reaches of this mountain called life, is not for the faint-hearted.
So perhaps I shall fight my devils until the day I see a glimpse of this foreign thing called love.
YOU ARE READING
You Who Knows Least
PoetryA sequel to my book "You Who Knows Best". Read, and you will find much intellect. The thoughts I share here are of my inner sect.
