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Poetry
July 2020
1 min read
171 words

My mind is spiralling out of control

Following shadows of invisible figures

For it cannot differentiate between what it sees and what are hallucinations

It's following traces of footsteps that are laid on ice, ice which seems to be melting into oblivion

In the state of sleep, it is most awaken

It follows the melted ice as a ritual for it knows that all rivers lead to the sea

My mind slowly devours the heart so it may not betrayed by the emotions which it does not understand

My mind tears apart the very strings that compose the heart and what the heart itself composes

Does it in cowardness find its greatest solace?

It's said that what might have been is an abstraction, remaining a perpetual possibility but what if it's the only thing that remains out of all things that are doomed towards nothingness because after all, it's what man comes to.

My mind does not want to see, for it believes that in absolute blindness it perceives the most.

Isn't that paradoxical

9th July'20

Personal creative work by Hania Waseem. All content is original.