At times, autumn doesn’t just fall on trees,
It slowly descends within, unseen.
We hide our withering hopes, our fading hearts,
And show the world a spring that never departs.
The autumn inside, none ever knows,
As we silently break, where no one goes.
Like leaves, we crumble, dissolve in the air,
Fading into depths we alone bear.
This quiet decay, so deeply concealed,
Becomes a part of us, wholly sealed.
As if this autumn, so cold, so still,
Had merged with our being, bending our will.
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Hi ! If you loved reading this one poem. Then, check out others too .
In many write-ups , I encoded my emotions ...
Perhaps, I might not be appreciated but my Art should be ..
Lots of love !
About the Creator
Muhammad Waseem
Be the part of what I write !
Be the part of what I envision!
Appreciate the writ-ups , not me !
Love you all 😊
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Day 4 of Quitting
If this is how sobriety feels, maybe it’s better to go through life a little buzzed… this, along with other hits like, I want to kill myself, I wish I was dead, and I’m going to throw myself off a bridge have been the only thoughts on rotation these past few days. I promise myself that if, in a month, I still feel like this (‘this’ meaning despondent, full of rage, and simultaneously numb) I can go back to smoking. Until mid-February though? Nicotine is off the table.
By sleepy drafts5 days ago in Longevity
Comments (2)
It's a very nice and heartfelt poem, well written!👏🏼😄
The beautiful portrayal of autumn's reflection within us !!! 💓☺️