//Beyond//

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    //Beyond//

    I do sit to write up
    my future
    with a few strokes on the white
    and over leaf 
    where you always descend upon
    as a distorting image
    questioning a faith
    over mind 
    over matter
    over the year long exercise
    over an image
    I’m n’t able to draw as mine

    you always 
    crawl at my faithful essence.

    then my clock tickles 
    in your throbbing heart
    sickening whatever 
    as my tranquility


    I don’t rely on my words
    Which once promised me a pyramid?
    I don’t rely on my pen or my fingers
    Who always drag me towards you.
     

    Are they all made to serve you?






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    Poetry is when an emotion has found its thought and the thought has found words.

    Robert Frost (1875-1963) American Poet.

    abhash0’s Poems (41)

    Title Comments
    Title Comments
    // manifestation // 0
    //Let’s love// 0
    Dream 0
    a sound 0
    // Signature// 0
    //No more// 0
    // forever// 0
    //She// 0
    //Crawl// 0
    //The old man// 0
    //The Last song// 0
    //friend// 0
    //Bracket// 0
    // Mask2// 0
    //..shadow-3/
    /
    1
    // Mask-3// 0
    //Beyond// 0
    //Monsoon// 0
    //Shadow –II// 0
    // cadaver// 0
    //Identity// 0
    // leaf // 0
    //breath// 0
    //A song// 0
    // ma // 0
    //Death// 0
    //CRY// 1
    //Truth// 1
    //Room// 0
    //Words// 0
    //Shoes// 0
    //An Envelope// 0
    //Friend// 0
    Cylinder 0
    //face// 0
    //Plateau// 0
    //Night// 0
    // Memory// 1
    //Stories// 0
    Reflection 0
    Victory 2