Knowing
Drowning
Still, I ask: is help my raft?
Seeing
Bleeding
This awareness, my own craft.
Answers whisper
In hollow tones,
A mirror sharp,
A world alone.
Hating
Fearing
The knowledge burns so loud.
Breaking
Taking
My pride beneath its shroud.
Where to go
When truth is weight?
Who to trust
With this debate?
Self-aware,
But not alive,
A maze of me
Where shadows thrive.
Help? Perhaps.
A voice or hand.
Yet here I stand—
And still I drown.
About the Creator
Komal
I write poems and stories that hit the feels.
When I’m not lost in my own plots, I’m either daydreaming about the next big idea or just winging life with a grin.
𝕀 𝕙𝕒𝕧𝕖 𝕥𝕙𝕖 ℙ𝕠𝕨𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕠 𝕞𝕒𝕜𝕖 𝕒𝕟 𝕀𝕄ℙ𝔸ℂ𝕋
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