Sitting in an empty room staring into space
thinking it is all cloud nine, but do not know what or which cloud it is.
Nimbus? or Cumulus? maybe blue? or maybe grey?
whatever it is, I have no answers

Writer’s block as they call it, but I am no writer
but a pilgrim to my own thoughts and dreams
the journey of euphoric and melancholy silver linings
that often masks the pain and sorrow

I feel pain
I feel blue
I feel the deepest blackhole that syphons my dreams



I feel the gravity
I feel the maze
I feel the anger that sips through my veins

I feel the light
I feel the hope
I feel the rigidity to all the sweetness

I feel the yearning
I feel the guilt
I feel lost to all these sweetness

I feel satiable
I feel numb
I feel the desolation of my dreams

I feel the sun
I feel the rain
I feel them pouring out the eyelids of iris

I feel the question
I feel the redundancy
I feel the answers are all in vain

for grief, my old friend, comes knocking as he please



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