Lekhny composition -24-Apr-2022
It hurts to know that I do not control
The winds that pass by my field ,
This pain eats me slowly
Sometimes when I look at the withered plants in my field
I see myself ,
A broken soul
Ugly face
And rotten spirit
The bugs that eat the crops in my field
Somehow represent the bugs within me
That have long been feasting on my soul,
I feel the sting of unworthiness on my shoulders
The thorn of rejection ,
I'm a stranger to my own spirt
Murder to my own soul
And bug to my own body
How I wish I had control of my emotions
Then maybe I wouldn't be a prisoner to this darkness
A toxin to my own kind
And poison to my special being
Thee° entangled
Abhinav ji
27-Apr-2022 12:15 AM
Nice👍
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Zainab Irfan
26-Apr-2022 08:15 PM
Nice
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Shnaya
26-Apr-2022 03:36 PM
Very nice
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