That little stretchA Poem by SantulanEveryone has a personal hell, this is about mine
Like a cigarette that burns and smokes Not only itself but the smoker And a few innocents if he’s careless enough It burns me from the inside Slowly but surely. Some times pushing, some times depressing To see that how I’ve let the proverbial sins take over. Everything comes at a price, Nothing is free. Imagine a personal hell Far different from what you’re told about. The pain not physical Yet almost unbearable. Some say it’s because I’ve fallen While others say that I chose to be where I am While the rest of the world rose. Imagine a thousand seeds, All throbbing inside you And then bursting together Taking you wave by wave. I hope that this is the last one, And one seed finds the audacity to stay Ands start all over again. I bow down, fold my hands and pray, Hope that I find the strength, That this is the last stretch And I don’t end up starting all over again. It’s my personal hell, I am praying for deliverance And hope that this little stretch Finally comes to an end. © 2008 SantulanReviews
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7 Reviews Added on February 6, 2008 AuthorSantulanAhmedabad, IndiaAboutAm here here to share my musings and writings with you, and maybe improve my self from what you comment and reiew. Being a vintage Libran, I am in constant search for establishing an Equilibrium in m.. more..Writing
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