The year seems cold
So is my life.
Another year for me to breathe anew
But the air I breathe itself send a shiver down my spine
And make me question my existence.
A life full of a mysterious journey; I questioned myself,
"Am I even strong enough to face my death?".
'Life can't be taken for granted, that I know.
So I stand still and wait for tomorrow to come and take me away.
Where I'll busy myself again in a different quest.
I create a sinister self inside me
Who only wants to be ungrateful for the one gifted life
For it hurts.
The pain is still unendurable and ineffable
And no one knows for I never garner the audacity to speak up.
It's a pain of offering too much of mine to the close ones
And still inkling unwanted.
A pain of probing the profounding entity of life but not procuring the answers.
Maybe, if I carry on with my life,
I'll find the door.
The door where every part of me will vivify again
And where the search for tranquil existence welcome me.
For I know It's waiting for me to knock
And is ready to embrace my pure soul to take me home.
Our born Day signifies another year
This year, I vowed to confront any struggle that comes my way
And wishing to be emancipated from the fear of the unknown.
My amplest phobia was thanatophobia.
Now, it is long gone
For Death is not the end of every life.
What lies after death is bliss.
Paodon
YOU ARE READING
The Afterthoughts
Poetry"The Afterthoughts", is a room where I bottle up my cursory thoughts, hidden from the realm I am existing and presenting it to the world where I yearn to fit (bookish world).
