a life of fruitless choices chase
after me as I run towards an
but only in my mind.
the ghosts of things I cling to
walk in my shadow until the darkness of
eclipse devours them
and they disappear…
Words I left behind make up
the nonsense that would read like
fake ancient murals telling
the end of worlds.
Eventually they’d be eaten away by time
and become a testament to nothing.
Some voices push me to the edge
by their rejecting and hateful screams.
Some voices cushion me just by
the echoes of their soft whispers
yet I disappear
for deep inside, I want to…
Waseem Sherif © 03/08/2016