the renditions of my fate

I lived in this stage for so long, driving myself wild in front of my audience, screaming my sorrow, my happiness and my death. How I wish for everything to end, to everything to just close down. Though I know everyone is watching me they are there doing nothing to comfort me.

It was the breeze that taught me to whisper, to hide myself in a mask and not to whimper. The renditions of my fate have shriveled into dust. And the retaliation of my life is long lost and tired. What will tomorrow bring to me when no one’s there? I have lost myself in the arms of the fateful and faithless. I have driven myself to the endless surreal world that even I can’t understand.

It was the inspiriting who uplifted me to the renounced world that was abandoned in time. The frozen unraveled music in the night has covered me from the cold empty space in time.

It is time to know and to go, as the storm starts to gather. No one sees me in this mask. I am hidden beneath a foolish make-up world in time and space…it is just a maybe now. No one was able to apprehend the cold whimsical word that I said. No one is there to touch me and to wake me from this nightmare. This avenue of broken sorrows has caught me stranded in the state of surrealism. No one is there to see and break my fall.

 

 

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