Unpoured

Sometimes I just want to cry at nothing Most times I just want the world to fade away Other times I just want to be And these comes when I realise how lonely I am Sometimes it makes me think if I'm not created Most times, it makes me think I'm not meant to have what others have Other times it makes me feel I will never have And these comes because I'm lonely Sometimes I feel I'm not there Most times I feel insignificant Other times I feel like an empty bottle in an ocean Blindly following the toss of the waves Sometimes I feel I need therapy But where I come from it doesn't exist except psychiatric I think I'm okay writing to myself These actually is my therapy

Actions can break one.  Words can go deep - to cut or to heal. Sometimes, a cut should be appreciated as it becomes a wake up call. We know how much we're valued by the mere words people say.

I see running feets, Of hearts troubled like hurricane, For fear, flowing with red sweats. The hunters are hunting. I see disarrayed minds Like broken glass, it can never heal, No wonder, hate is an option. Yeah.. The hate you give I see, not, running feets, This time, walking in slippery floors, Leaving it behind clean and dry, No hunters... No hate. I see faces I see my own face With a familiar voice saying 'Stop been your own hunter. Stop been your own hate.' Change and Peace starts with every individual. Not the mass!

Relevance and Attention, Blindly seeking like the regular. Finally, the thin line fades, The other side, in tears I am. I Am Love, and this is my Hate! The Veil and the void, Never lifting, never warmth. Aflame by cold's wicked grip, The other side, in lost I am. I Am Love, and this is my suicide! Paranoma and Obscurity, It comes,  such a sweet deceit. A muse I strangely hate to love, Deep thrusts I see, clearly now. I Am Love, and this is my Death! Warm, Cold and Bright, Clearly seeing, the hope I lost. Finally, the terms I accept, Of never rising to shine within. I Am Love, and this is my Funeral!