A teacher of mine used to say "a cluttered table means a cluttered mind" (some of you know who I'm talking about, and I'd be glad if you stop fantasizing). But the point is my table's been pretty cluttered lately. There is so much going on, and there is much more going on in my mind. I have lots to do (but so do others), I'm sort of under pressure to perform and i have deadlines lingering, still in reality the sky isn't falling upon me right now but in my mind its the dooms day, everyday.
i have been wanting to write from so long, wanting to vent it out, "to share and lessen the bear" but I've made up my mind that i don't have the time to neatly arrange things in a pile too. Which is the permanent damage Ive brought upon myself, like so many other things that i drive myself crazy with. So today i decided "to hell with everything". i decided give it in "procrastination's" face and take the step, which started with reading Firas' post. And now here i am writing my own. It might be among the bad ones (i know there are worst), it might not be fancy enough to cover up for the famine months that went by but it sure is my my metaphor for walking ahead. To my new found ray of light,
Charred up trees, singed old leaves
The bleak scenery and the spider weaves.
What had stood, rose in smoke
Blistered feet without much hope
Scared were the people, to open the eyes
As dreary clouds had filled the skies.
There was cast, a holocaust
Souls without the bodies had died.
But they couldn't, what he could see,
On the horizon, looming oh so far
'fear not the flames' he affirmed
As from them, a phoenix is about to rise.
i have been wanting to write from so long, wanting to vent it out, "to share and lessen the bear" but I've made up my mind that i don't have the time to neatly arrange things in a pile too. Which is the permanent damage Ive brought upon myself, like so many other things that i drive myself crazy with. So today i decided "to hell with everything". i decided give it in "procrastination's" face and take the step, which started with reading Firas' post. And now here i am writing my own. It might be among the bad ones (i know there are worst), it might not be fancy enough to cover up for the famine months that went by but it sure is my my metaphor for walking ahead. To my new found ray of light,
Charred up trees, singed old leaves
The bleak scenery and the spider weaves.
What had stood, rose in smoke
Blistered feet without much hope
Scared were the people, to open the eyes
As dreary clouds had filled the skies.
There was cast, a holocaust
Souls without the bodies had died.
But they couldn't, what he could see,
On the horizon, looming oh so far
'fear not the flames' he affirmed
As from them, a phoenix is about to rise.
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