Oblivion

I am meant for longing

To be caught between breaths

God indecisive to pronounce me dead

And so, half alive

To be thrown upon existence

like a piece of rotten decay

Atleast that way no one would look at me

Except You.

This decrepit sense of humour

The devil’s job is to keep me alive

My survival a gaping blank

My destruction unremarkable

And yet I live to see the day

until You catch sight of me.

Stop feeding this clown

I am meant to starve

To starve for your love

To fill this void with words

My body a limp trail

refusing to catch funeral fire

And so I am nothing but a hallucination.

I have turned myself into a ghost

Like a child throwing tantrums

Just so her Mother would pick her up

Thus suspended midway

I await your touch

I refuse to come alive.

I know not how to feel

A counterfeit expert

I am meant to doubt my own love

To not understand

To not be true

And yet You will find me

I am meant to be found by You.