So, that's how it is,
Hopeless, cold, desperate.
That's how it will continue?
Who traced this path for me?
Can He make a few adjustments?
Because I really can't see any purpose at all.
I look to the stars to complain, but then it strikes me,
This is my share of pain, what the stars have reserved for me. Karma.
I look to the palm of my hand, and ponder at the deep canals and feathers, amidst grids and hills and the valleys that I unwittingly carved for myself,
My destiny is written right there, so delicate, so broken,
It seems I am meant to be torn apart, at least It feels like that.
When your mind leaves you powerless, betrayed by thoughts and caught in mental loops that are meant to make you suffer,
What do you do?
Where or who do you turn to?
In this blizzard so cold, my eyes can only see white mist,
I have lived for 25 years only, why does it feel I am already dead inside?
YOU ARE READING
Life poems
PoetryPoems and writings from a simple, melancholic, depressed person, who is looking for a purpose to his life. I write about how things appear to me. This work deals mostly with the mind, and the depressing thoughts and feelings that I feel or try to su...
