Beyond the Burnt Horizon

And what is left of me, as I see the whole world burnt down to death,
And what’s left for me, as I hear nothing but the sounds of the silence.
What has been already built to be seen or heard, as the world lost all hope,
What is taken to be destroyed, as I as a human can’t be who I want to be.

Always have been there numerous chances of me misleading myself and lingering on,
Enough evidence there has been that I’d take pride in little promises being fulfilled.
Like the last blink of the strongest fire getting stronger for one last time, never to be lit again,
I be there at the exact places with the exact same thought to believe it’s useless to drive anymore.

It was to be supposed to be lies that this world couldn’t be ours and they can’t be mine’s,
It was supposed for the truth to never be let out in the open and get cold, dry and rot.
I was here to make it all happen for it was thought to be under control, the feeling of being and not bringing,
It so happened that it shouldn’t have, and it happened so fast that a life was spent just with a single lost breath.

All thought has been spent on ideas that were nicer, in a way they were dirtiest than being petty,
Every conclusion has been made to raise opinions with disgust that everything was all for nothing.
And petty us have no idea what just happened, wondering if anything is just glorious at all,
Clearly pointing out that no one has been spared the wrath of destiny and this is as simple as it can be.

While I ride through this to keep my parity at bay so that I can play with words as much as I can,
I sense that I have a lot to say but just worry that I will take my world from me away.
As it so happens, I be the sailor of my passionate and potent dreams only to forget them,
As the day sails with its mast held high for its motive only to show me how illogically worthless am I.

What am I here to change as I listen to the almighty pulling these strings as I imprint my story,
What in these pages could there be the chance to make or break away from everything’s that already so powerful?
I want to know and that’s why am I here to explore, with the first kick towards the newness of tomorrow,
And bidding adieu to things that happened, ideas muffled, time wasted and lives ruined.

What you might think of me, judging me through these lines as it has been ever to me,
As you might think this might never reach you, the very manifestation of your cardinal sin.
That I was designed to discover that I can’t be immortal towards change or progress,
For every empty thought of mine towards disaster or yours towards me could just be nothing.

It would end at a point that it would not sense and it would restart only to reassure that it wasn’t meant for sure,
I would watch it all go by without me being even the slightest part of it.
As I would wander, to begin with, and get hurt to end my expeditions with my words and your story,
And there won’t be any awe as to what really inspires us to rise every time I fail.

Well, to tell you this, you’re mistaken, I’d have to rise above these words, these lines,
And as I read this through you, it fills me with the power to read all of life all over again.
I ride and I feel the air competing with my breath as it wants to prove its worth as it has here all along,
To really tell myself that we’re back and we’re here to stay, just as we found ourselves a little more once again.


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Yetesh Sharma