/ Poetry

Death’s own carnival

I lay, astray-ed by the winds of despair,
My aching soul weeps, but I don’t care,
I open my eyes to visualize those walls,
That mock my being as I start to crawl...

In this carnival of pain,
With all my tears in vain,
I try to build a stairway home,
But death pulls me back in its dome...

Surrounded by endless visions of fear,
Some uncanny voices in the wind I hear,
They mock me now, they mocked me then,
Seems this turf of hopelessness will never end...

I seal myself in a sheet of thorns,
I feel nothing yet my body mourns,
And those leeches that itch in my veins,
They suck on my misery and all my pains...

But they don’t realize that it’s all me,
I’m the one who wants to be free...

And as they suck out all my blood dry,
My veins grow shallow, my senses all fry,
And with all my might, I crave and try,
To roar back into deaths own eye...

As I turn my death into life,
And all my fears into light,
Letting go of my sorrow, I fight
You can't kill me death because this is my night...

Shopnil Mahmud

Shopnil Mahmud

A software engineer with avid interest on any form of arts and philosophy. Likes to write codes for a living and poetry for the soul. Currently residing in Toronto, originally from Bangladesh.

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