Monday, September 8, 2014

Measuring Sorrow

You dont know, the measure of my sorrow,
And so you laugh, and fly into a spot,
a dark dot that was perhaps a bird,
against my orange horizon,
The sun has set,
Like you, the night is unaware of my grief,
The rain that falls on my windowpane,
drowns the sound of my agony,
Even the moon, the carefree stars,
And this wind, the distant trees,
I am alone in my grief,
And I have no escape, for it's locked inside me,
I am the coffin of my own dreams,
I am the lone pallbearer,
I am also my own death and the dead,
And I embrace my sorrow like a possessive lover,
And then I hear you laugh,
Unaware, a universe collapses into
its own infinitesimal centre,
Alone in my room, your laughter,
And my solitary sorrow...

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