It comes suddenly like a flash,
in some intimate moment,
conception of fear.
Like budgerigars,
petrified on the wall,
the cat below,
scratching, jumping.
I am done.
Questions of life and death,
right and wrong,
the continuous chatter of psychological dying.
The dust goes into the eyes.
we start playing the game.
Melancholic clouds
Cannot look straight.
Disillusion drips.
Depersonification starts,
On the parched skin.
Wrinkles dig deep to collect the tears
The ending, before it starts
Arguments are dragging the conscience.
Hunger and knowledge staring at each other,
Unabashedly,
and dying shadows making a kill.
Someone stakes a claim,
on heritage of purity,
pulling the strings.
Freedom to act bleeds the heart.
