Sometimes, or most of the times, people don't understand me.
They've never understood me.
I give them my love; my words, but can they understand?
They do not.
Many mock me.
Many jeer at my antics, my stubbornness.
Many among my dearest.
My nearest.
Servants of yours whom I call family.
Servants?
I'd say, hardly.
But the urge to please you goes well beyond my anger, my fury for them.
For I pity their shallowness.
I pity their restricted path.
Won't they ever find you? I wonder.
Won't they every touch your love?
Won't they ever encourage my way for you?
One whom I've loved dearly does not.
And somehow, it scares me.
To think that I might have been wrong all along.
But a sensation within my heart- one that cannot bear my old ways of reaching out, calms me.
For I will not go back.
For I will not breathe if I go back.
I will not ask questions that distress me.
Because it is of no use.
But, talking to you, soothes me.
Makes me feel as if there is someone who loves me for who I am.
Because even if I'm wrong, I will learn from my path.
And I will choose a different one.
I am caged.
But it does not depress me.
Because it does not seem worth my valuable feelings.
My only heart, which has been torn part by part, and healed yet again, belongs to you.
To you, I devour myself.
To you, I taste my beating pulse.
To you, I feel freedom.
And I know, that you are not narrow-minded.
That you are not a dead-end cave.
That you are the light at the end of the tunnel.
And that, the light is my ray of hope that shines through.
I find solace only in you.
Only in your beautiful, beautiful eyes.
Water brims beneath my soul.
And I am thankful that you are my only love.
Because everything else is only.....
Mocked.