Hey, father

How do you manage to repress this witch sucking peace from our surroundings?

Always hankering for blood, tears, and terrible depression,

Kindly uncoil the truth,

How you’re able to conceal agony in twisted lie, and fancy smiles.

Do you know, father

Each night I see you battling against the witch,

I wonder what if you lose this time,

Every morning at the breakfast table, I smell twitchiness in your lies, and distress in your mind,

Father, I’ve learned death isn’t what I should fear, it’s the proximity of our paralysed circumstances,

Last night,

My timid heart witnessed countless deaths slumbering on a peaceful deathbed deep down my fathomless heart,

Somehow, I plunged father

So, I can howl among those deaths, and there will be no one to judge my irregular oscillations and seized hesitations,


I never died to born again,

I died to wrest myself from the hold of horrific desolation, grief and revolting miseries.

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