I’m on the different phase of the world,
And I truly believe that I’ve made it home.
I sense the breath inside me against the world,
I’m truly abducted from outside in a place called home.
I paint a true picture while keeping my eyes closed,
Hearing the tales of failure with both my ears closed.
Jumping and wailing and letting the world truly know,
A story of mine carefully curated if I truly know.
Trusting that truth shall deliver not but broken promises,
Waiting as long before I deliver my life before it’s dead.
Today I ain’t getting the answer forged against some promises,
I won’t get it even long after this soul is dead.
Read More:
Check for more updates on the facebook page : https://www.facebook.com/thewritersage/
