Just how could the moon meet the sun when they can't shine together at the same skies?
Just why tears are drawn to flow when it can cease the ease?
Just when love is essential when relationship is unwanted?
Am I inside the ring of love or am I in the pits of feeble freedom?
Am I bound to flourish, to nurture, to build a
child wrapped in a suit of man?
Am I thirsty of merit sentiments or am I just eloquent in seeking ultimatum?
All I want is hook the wings I deserve. But I was carrying alone the burden of my uncertainties. I have chosen to decide to soar with a broken wing, withered feather, dusty edges.
I have let the mirror in me stole the chance for my winged soul to repose, to heal, to ponder believing that along the lofty clouds his smoked guidance will provide enough strength to keep
me afloat.
Yes it did.
It conquered. It protrudes.
It was sufficient. It was overflowing.
But how much it satisfies my hungry soul, the tip of my tongue could not taste the palette it bleeds.
The wall of convincing myself it was made from love was turning to a burning bush revealing that none of us beloved this.
We deserve a grand glorious prize... more than cliché love, niche emotion, subtle commitment, more than each other.
Should I welcome something with an empty someone?