Across The Bridge



put the pen down my lord

put it down please

no use of begging the lines for a space of illusion


pain has some sort of power

either to rise you above the breakage

or it will Barry you under its feet.


i’m haunted with freedom

i’m haunted with shores and green palm trees

but each time i open my eyes

all i see is deserts.


i smoke and smoke

in that process i don’t know who’s burning faster

the cigarette or me .


don’n fear what will be said

be aware of the unsaid.


a written letter like a silent will for the unseen muse


oh , i wish if i can carve my words on stones

words might shine one day.

pity if we leave without a trace.

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