Life, A Myth


I’m sure I’m not living, I’m slowly dying. I came to life when I was born and then the imminent process of death commenced, beyond my comprehension of medical science, of magic potions, of healthy diets and breathing air that is 21 percent of oxygen, I have come to sense that I’m not living, I’m merely surviving and nearing death. Living is a term given to slow death to avoid any panics or uproars in humans. We are simply dying, slowly but surely and living in the disguise of death, how intriguing and horrifying that is, isn’t it?

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The Dark World Problems

Thirsty crows like wolves smothered under a seismic wave.
Teens with guns and broken dreams sleep voluntarily in their grave.

Modern incantations and ritual schemes rise a blood soaked moon. The ones alive lie in their bed praying that death would come soon.

Whirlwinds in water bodies engulfing manmade creations, While them back at home slip in to the void maintaining suicidal relations.

And silence meets the departing sands exhaling destruction. Another life sucked in to the void under self mutilation.

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My Black Heart 

I was listening to a sad song today and my heart dropped. I could feel how something else has replaced my heart. Something that beats, bleeds tar and is stabbed by a thousand needles that controls my pain. At a point I felt like I should smile and then a needle pierced my heart and I felt deceived. I felt a need to think of something else but another needle pierced my heart making me think of horrible things that I don’t want to, making me wail and tremor. I hate being a human who’s heart is being replaced by nothing but darkness and pain. Will I ever be able to control myself? 
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