Lacuna [POEM]

When bits of yourself is lost,

broken beyond repair,

do you still cling to hope,

or would you let your broken body

be scattered into the endless abyss?

╭          Bit of a Warning          ╮

Heavy Themes

╰                                                 ╯

╭─── ｡(＾･ᆺ･＾)｡ ───╮

Lacuna

╰────────────╯

Artist: Gilbert Han

#PoemsByKyrie

── =^._.^= ∫ ──

Writing has given me joy,

And reading just excites me so,

Every now and then do I

Have with me some paper and pen,

And it's really fun— writing,

Making up a world in my mind,

Only that it had now made

Its way into some blank paper,

Reading also has its charm,

Trapping me inside a journey

Of some heroes and villains

Who would clash against each other,

I love a good ol' fantasy,

Escape from this reality,

Others have told me to stop

And take a good look around me,

But I don't want to see them,

I do not want to see the truth,

I'd rather bury myself

Within a thousand words or so,

I just love to read and write,

It is my only source of joy,

But everyone's against me,

Telling me to open my eyes,

Years and years have I stood strong,

Not wavering from all their words,

But one fateful day, I snapped

And threw away paper and pen,

For a time, they gave me smiles,

Thinking that they've won the battle,

Yes, they did won the battle,

But I haven't lost to this war,

And relentless, relentless,

I struggled and made their lives Hell,

I'd bring rain on their parade

Before making them feel guilty,

I've done this relentlessly,

Never giving chance to rest,

They took what had gave me smiles,

So I will do the same for them,

And then, like a miracle,

I was told to do as I pleased,

With a happy heart and mind,

I took, once more, paper and pen,

I immersed myself once more

To the world of fantasy,

Reading tales of gallant knights

While writing poems made with love,

But then, something feels not right,

I cannot read like I used to,

That's the case for writing too,

I couldn't write like I once did,

Finally, it dawned to me,

Through the years, my mind was unwell,

Not being fed with stories

Nor was given chance to make one,

Tried, I did, with all my might,

To search a cure for this disease,

But it was too late for me,

The poison's done corrupting me,

And so, with a heavy heart,

I gave up the paper and pen,

My mind has been rusted down,

Imagination's no more there,

This, I told to the people

That made me quit in the first place,

And all I could see in their

Faces was nothing but… nothing,

Just like what's left of my mind,

Nothing… absolutely nothing,

I tried, tried, then tried again,

But my mind cannot be restored,

And years had ed since that time,

My parents, proud of my award,

Doctor, now in my name, but

There's something that had died inside.

── =^._.^= ∫ ──

BG Photo: Banter Snaps