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I was composing the lyrics of loneliness in The Silence of the Grave

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Written by   103
1 month ago

When I was in the middle of a dream in which loneliness was ringing, the bells rang; navigating conscious that I shouldn't believe everything I see, the impression I got was that I was just wasted and wasted, in fact I was the most faithful unpleasant nothingness of emptiness.

Giant braces on my chest.

Yes, I knew, I knew: I was a thrush, I was also a gift of my very flattering loneliness, and I offered my inner voice to all humanity and whoever I abstained from, I went back and forth in the compass of desolation, and that goal I could not reach, after all, I was at the target of the universe, maybe with my whipping heart, creditor maybe full of lust I was an extra, perhaps hiding in a film frame, the shadows in their voices quite shy.

However, I was undressed and watched my nakedness with the darkness I had.

Life was a deception.

Happiness was a refuted feast.

A dream that I sewed from the tears of loneliness in its favor, all I was actually and a goldfinch singing on the sill of love like I've never fallen into, suddenly abandoned and having nowhere to go.

Sadness was the race of my loneliness.

On the other hand, people were scattered like rotten dreams without a race. I was the stalk of the delicious apple from which life was split right in the middle, after all, with the shame of not being able to stick to any ax in a lifetime, I now knew that an apple was the stalk and with the seeds inside, I missed happiness again and it was the remnant of my grueling journey in the death sleep of hijra. unhappiness.

My soul was a nomad.

With the urge to take revenge in the beaks of migratory birds, I built a world where all humanity hurt each other and from the wounds I received, and now I knew that I was privileged.

Even though I know how to get enough.

I was hidden in the instinct of the world, which I was not enough, and I was pushing those who approached me as much as I was pushed.

While I was writing the lyrics of loneliness, I was composing in the silence of the grave, but there was no one coming or going, and I will not make my voice heard, and after that dream I had at the job I was in.

If all I dreamed was to fall, getting up again and nothing I dreamed would come true, since I continued to sleep, I even recorded the dreams that I had with my eyes open, and I was burdened with more than I could perform: whatever was unspoken and with that privilege in the inner voice of the darkness, I knew where I could not reach. I put an end to the steps I took.

When I didn't even have a name, I didn't answer the calls and banned me in the climate of oblivion.

His noise was the biggest reaction to loneliness, after all.

What caused the silence of a world full of people was my fate that I accepted, and I made a swing from the words that gave my inner voice, shaking hands with my grief, I experienced the beauty of flying and the swing that swept my feet off the ground and it rivaled the speed of the wind. I had fallen into despair.

I would dream and dream as much as I lived, and only I would know what the truth was. Of course, if there was no Creator, what would be the point of living?

Life was a song.

Living was a motive.

I was cold even in the heat of summer, like the snowflakes accompanying the fork of love, since I knew that I was a snowdrop blooming in the snow, and I knew that even in the scorching heat of summer, I would not wither and fade.

Then I asked someone.

They escaped.

Everyone was gone except me and my mother was by my bedside.

I looked into your eyes without a sound.

He caressed my head without making a sound and blinked his eyes.

I got it, here's what I got:

Everything will pass, girl, as long as you don't get carried away.

I was not a dream, on the contrary, I was the truth and I was unfair to the dreams I had.

Although I had fallen to the ground and hit my head hard, but here I was, standing upright again.

Everything was going.

Time was passing and people were passing through my life.

While I passed out many times.

The sun was starting to shine and I smiled and I thought once more that everything was gone but that I would never pass out.

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Written by   103
1 month ago
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