Prose
Carpe diem (Seize the day)
Every day, the world seems to spin faster, with moments and time slipping by swiftly, in the blink of an eye. It makes me ponder: with all this hustle and bustle, are we losing ourselves? Losing sight of what truly matters in life — the very essence of humanity. Are the poets, the dreamers, the artists who once breathed life into our world slowly dying? Or are they just buried alive by the destructive force of imposed norms, expectations, molds, and paths, crushing the spirit and soul of humans filled with passion?
By fleeting.serenicsabout a year ago in Poets
a bird for a day
you ask me where i would go if i was a bird for a day, as though everyone just wants to escape some town, as though anywhere else fosters comfort. you expect to hear Rome or Paris fall wistfully from my lips as i imagine soaring toward a sky that looks like nirvana to people who hate feeling the earth beneath their feet. how do i express to you that wings would be wasted on someone like me, without sounding like someone afraid of things like heights or concepts like change? how might you think of me when i tell you it's not a place i wish to leave or a place i hope to reach? i could be a bird and i could fly across the world, but i'd still ache in Venice and i'd still yearn in Barcelona for something you can't find on a postcard.
By melancholy galaxiesabout a year ago in Poets
