Can anyone pray for my death?
So that in peace I can rest.
I am waiting for my lord to declare fast the end of my test.
I can no longer stand strong.
When all call me wrong.
My ship can no longer handle the waves.
But still, it's sailing and fighting these waves.
And here I am praying for its destruction through these waves.
It's ironic.
The candle burning for so long.
Which help me to be strong,
In the darkness.
It's melting away.
I am begging it to stay.
As I am afraid of my own darkness,
Which I loved once.
Isn't ironic?
I am desperately wishing for my death,
On the day I was born.
It's ironic.
YOU ARE READING
Paroxysm
PoetryEvery poem has its own meaning. Every poem is written with emotion stored in heart.
