Living Deadly |Poem|

Image credit: Pinterest

Now is the time that face should form another;

Those hours that with gentle work did burn.

And just not another restless night;

It was another falling tear

Another broken dream.

When you have stolen my mind

Another promise to keep,

Which the world can't erase,

The morning will come as my heart close

And I won't feel the sunshine.

Ungodly loveliness, why do I killed

Upon myself beauty ask's bootless?

Lo, in the orient when the gracious light,

When I don't even know my name

When the darkness blinded my eyes.

And there are days when I am losing my faith,

Because he was not good,

When you look back

There's exist a wound

In his heart.

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Un-Knowing

image source: www.manseacrh.com2019 I do not want to know, About the children, the women, or the animals. I do not want to know, If she or he or it or they were asking for it. I do not want to know, If they are dead, alive or dying. I do not want to know, Which race, religion, class or caste they're from. I want to shut my ears and make no sound, Bow my head and walk around. Because if I know, I will shatter, Shrink, dissolve, wither into nothingness. If I know, I cannot function, If I know, I'd want to un-know. -bryam If you have anything to share, comment below or write at bariambredeemson700@gmail.com #Visit full profile by clicking the home button to know tittle more about the author.

I cannot say I remember

image credit: pinterest Then suddenly they showed the faces The change had found where they lived The names were replaced too quickly They found where they were hid Circled in wagon filled tragedies No one rides off to the west Attention now asks for a holiday While famila is held to the test I cannot say I remember Reading in foreign tongues How I wish it were yesterday And this world today was still young.

Grief |Poem|

Grief /Poem Image credit: https//www. image search.com This is how I have dealt With grief most of my life sharing it on paper instead of humans It feels safe that way, words don't feign sympathy and paper doesn't stutter It makes the grief feel projected As if happening to another person, Not me, never me, never now As if I am a mere character in a distant story As if the grief will end after the full stop, after the end As if fiction will drown reality And reality seem fictitious But of late, of late the fiction seems to be a maze A maze I have spent too long in A period longer than forever And now, it is too late to get out of and for human touch. If you like this poem or have anything to share, comment below or write at briambredeemson700@gmail.com

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