Poetry is the journal of a sea animal living on land, wanting to fly in the air.
― Carl Sandburg
It is unbelievable how much truth there is to that quote. Here is a little something that came to my mind on one of my many sleepless nights. We all struggle with handling our emotions. Some more than the others. To some its a sure shot path to destruction- to feel. They put their guards up and lock their feelings away forever, but every once in a while someone shows up and shakes the very foundation of it all.
Losing battles
There's this feeling, exploding inside of me today
something I know not of.
A forgotten concept, a lost friend, a dried up ocean, emotions have been for me.
Yet a storm is building up today
inordinate it's extend be.
A cold winter night I first felt the shivers, forlorn and frazzled, it's nostalgia is upon me.
I built a dam, that put a stopper to this agonising tornado
for feelings were for me, my own poison ivy.
Locked in my tower, I fancied no such thing, then why has this incursion happened upon me.
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