You lie awake, clean, glass transparent, clicking keys on your keyboard, thinking what is there to be? Memory, nightmares, anguishing air around rises, the tone of your voice shrills within.
You think… what is there to be?
A day with night infused in, beautifully shadowing the streets. The coldness in your ankles, cloths tying you to the ground. You want to let it go, trying to slip away, but it jerks you down, shivering the soul to reality. The forlorn bubble glistens, shines enveloping your universe within. Does it take drowning waves to make you feel the shore again?
Past midnight, as the black sky thickens, winds quiver, leaves whisper, and the naughty moon fickle gazes, you await redemption.
Cut loose that anchor, fly up into the thin air, ’cause there might not be any more to have upon. Bare soles slide against tickling clouds, gasping streaks between your toes. The city under you, quiet, asleep, lost in their own swoons.
And as you soar higher, you feel the eternal space above. Paint a lie or scream a truth, the canvas of your symphony stays uncorrupted in front of you. You raise your finger to the blank space, roofs beneath mooning at you, to reassure.
Staying suspended there, do you feel free? Want to go higher? If you could breathe through the vacuum, would you have gone farther?
You say, ‘I write sad verses, dripped in a lyric of woe-begone trajectory’.
It feels happy in that state, melody of sheer solitude. The hands going around in space, unbridled by your arms. Pace with this heart if you can. The soul that visits thousand lands of unimaginable feelings. Happiness resides in little ways.
Embrace a new way of the same old. You may say it is a state of perennial ‘sadness’, but it isn’t sad here, it is just a calm peace untouched by any.