The Poet in me yearns for a gasp of breath

The Poet in me yearns for a gasp of breath

Epiphanies of the tranquility that the light held,

In the ecstasy of a gallant tomorrow, every ounce of my being I shed.

Dripping my soul into the muse of the sanguinity of the foresight,

Trodding on my way, I poured my grief in the ounce of poetry

In the somberness of midnight

A catch of amour in its fleeting flight,

The fallacy of humanity bemoaned its existence in the hours of plight.

Walking in the radiance of the embers of pain that kindled my flair,

Lamenting over the existence I forged in, I bled every ounce of my fibre as poetry,

Where the dooming loom of sorrow kissed itself in despair.

The whispers of nothingness creep in silent steps from behind

I yearn to drown in the opus of my mind

Where the dismal whims of sorrow apall the merriment of gloom,

Where the realm of fantasy in its bliss blooms

Engraved in every bit of my entirety, I hailed for joy before it embraced its death

Enslaved by the call of duty, I yearn for a gasp of breath.

Tirelessly striving in the search for unscathed glee,

The poet in me seeks redemption, find me in the depths of my poetry.

-Hridya