This is one of those shitty compositions that you don't want to read but I want to post. It was a lonely rainy night of I-can't-remember-what-year that I thought I will die the following morning. I was (and still) not taking drugs or whatever chemical that can induce such notion. It just happened. So I wrote a poem to say my goodbye.
Alas! ,the following morning I did not die. This is the poem:
Morning, Mourning
I will die tonight
with you in my mind.
In the realm of my dreams
are us with lonely hymns.
Should you wake up this morning
and find this lettering,
offer me nothing but tears
and do not fear kissing my lips.
Please tell my mother, I died.
Say I am sorry, I lied.
So many times I said I'm fine.
These are my lines. This is my time.
Go where you always wanted to go.
I am no longer here to say my no.
Freedom is ours now, separately.
That is why it is called - freedom.
I will love you for the rest
of my eternity.
My words will always be with you
with all its pointlessness or profundity.
Take care always.
I can die many ways
But this is what ought to be -
abrupt, futile and lonely.
Goodnight.
But by the time you read this,
it will be morning.
Tweet
Follow @OurDailyBore
with you in my mind.
In the realm of my dreams
are us with lonely hymns.
Should you wake up this morning
and find this lettering,
offer me nothing but tears
and do not fear kissing my lips.
Please tell my mother, I died.
Say I am sorry, I lied.
So many times I said I'm fine.
These are my lines. This is my time.
Go where you always wanted to go.
I am no longer here to say my no.
Freedom is ours now, separately.
That is why it is called - freedom.
I will love you for the rest
of my eternity.
My words will always be with you
with all its pointlessness or profundity.
Take care always.
I can die many ways
But this is what ought to be -
abrupt, futile and lonely.
Goodnight.
But by the time you read this,
it will be morning.
