Evening , Swirling night winds
Crossed my path of determination,
Oh! Now the eye starts to weep
For the rest, for the piece of peace,
Nothing left , except my hand
With a pen , beside scrambled notes.
Deep goosebumps day's night,
No dreams , no sounds , no liberty,
No words , everything uttered and
Now became sigh of my air,
In those 20 minutes , Alam agitated,
My hand near the phone always snooze it,
I knew it is again going to throw
The part of disco ni8 at evening,
My hand dancing with somber ,
My head drinks softy pillow,
My legs in four shape,
My heart debted to my cornered eyes,
At the eve, My heart and my eye
The day and the night
have exquisite sex,
No , I want to open once or never ,
I think , better not to open ,
What if I open , what else would happen,
Nothing , indeed nothing, all the same
The time that I lost became my past ,
Every moment , I bargain to snooze ,
Every second became my past
Of regrets.
It is happening all day
And now I am the dead sold fish
To the anxiety and expectations.
Now my mind Surfs and questions,
What I am sowing ,
Weeds , No! it becomes weeds ,
By everyone who see as it is ,
Everyone , to everyone ,
Who swimming in pseudo honesty
Of pride , think my greeny as a moors and weeds,
To mine , their weeds are my pleasure .
What am I crafting ?
Maybe I don't want to do ,
May be it is for them
My dreams left in the frozen guilt,
No sun I expect , No season
Could thaw my guilt , what they need
Is become my forceful accomplishments,
World and days become my enemy ,
Further I running in their views ,
I see , I see it , the happiness ,
The pride in them ,
What I am, is now their vision
And what I lost is my ambition.

-Z

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