For old times’ sake I did,
juttered out the ravenous calm
in hopes of sanity,
O pull me up!
For I’m sinking in deep and deep.
A no-ending black hole, raws and all
scraping isn’t worrisome, no more,
plummeting a ten times glory, it seem,
this path down the sucker with an abhorous zeal
not ‘ye all judgemental; but for thyself
a hoarder of pain looked up for one last time-
bring me up not this hellhole;
screams won’t be so bad anyway
I repent, not for the sins, but
for thyself endurement.
It is not fair on the job you do, or for the person you do, if, in the back of your mind, you have ‘Sorry’ as the go-to option.
Even before you start the work, if you have some excuse prepared, then it transcribes into how much you really want that work to workout for you.
If you are doing something nice for someone else and have an apology prepared to fall back on if things didn’t happen as it should, then it signifies your real intention of how much you really wanted to do it for them or how they really matter to you in the first place.
The war within;
so horrendous that,
it terrifies me
of my future.
The clashes between, the past
trying hard to match,
with the future ‘imaginary castles’
that I am already living in.
I blame the heart, for
it is the culprit that overrode
the brain to make me believe
that unicorns exist.
The blame game starts-
the war waging between
the heart and brain
to decide who is the bane.