with every click of the mouse
a part of the past flashes by
a broken soul twists and turns
churns and spurns. It never learns.
the pins hit quick and hard.
All the pieces, all the shards
quiver, tremble, burn, and fall.
Every exchange, quick and dull;
I took the risk and I fell.
I confined myself to this hell.
With every resurgence a new strike blows;
back on the ground facing new lows.
Sometimes it’s hard to fall asleep,
thinking of you makes me weak
in a way that creates an insomniac
a torturous consciousness, a mental wrack.
The rower is out and the weather is glum
he now realizes he is deaf and dumb.
nothing gets through. He needs to flee,
but the ores have sunken so painfully.
Abandoned and alone, a storm he shal face,
floating above a sea of disgrace,
only himself left to embrace.
—
By: Omeed Askari
September 28, 2009, 11:14pm
