A writer that takes emotional torture on a daily basis,
From friends, from family from all different places.
Expressing is difficult when you want to keep it hidden,
as painful as hell can be always the victim.
Like living in a prison; needing to break the prism.
My weak heart; it's impossible for me to not cry,
I'd rather be blind to see what i do although I've got eyes.
If you could understand me even a little bit,
Then maybe you'd realize there is much more to my words.
This life is not nice; it is as complex as a riddle is,
To cry like i do you would want to close the door to my world.
My heart is broken; shattered like pieces of glass,
Tormented by the cold winds that howl to pass.
I want to look forward to my future but instead i look back to my past,
A ghost that haunts me forever something that will always last.
A bitter love that never fell into my hands when i tried to catch,
When i tried to find it; when i thought i had found .
Serenity that fades to ash; from a fire of a raging blast,
In a dream the harps playing; it was this melodious sound.
I am a writer indeed; and i write many things that i feel,
But even we have a history beyond the concepts we see as real.
Even we really cry; tears that drop on the paper we write on,
Wishing we could fly away; or even find a wing to fly on.
Never think we are never true to the words you read,
Every word is a mystery that you shall understand in your sleep.
© 2013, Mohammed Muavia Raja a.k.a MaaviPoet