Tuesday, September 3, 2013

Losing the Battle 'Remains' Easy

There have been gazillion times of mishaps with me 
or perhaps the intended back steps
I have taken
Every time I go to prove myself in front
of a large crowd or just there. 
My hands faint
and my eyes shake
Like the good god is arriving
to filter my sins
Through the bitterness and crunch in me,
Deep own...somewhere
I...I so believe the rhyming of life
Full of spoons,
Full of knives
I bow in my presence to be a holy wish
Every time a foot step I raise  forward
the failure of the future envisioned 
Rushes down my spine 
Entering and residing in the veins of a defeated self. 

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