Full of devoid and deject towards Oneself,
One has rid the tradition of observing one’s face
in the same mirror countless times
often and often again; a frequent cycle,
has it come to the point that one
cannot recognize one's face no longer.
A twisted turn,
oh how One cannot familiarize
the individual marks and patterns on One's face any longer
Should one feel a sense of sadness
for this absence of self recognition?
One should think not; and one would dare not contemplate
these past fractures of one as one
would’ve had the mirror
shattered by such a horrid face.
These markings would forever stay permanet
stain one's cheeks and chin,
and might as well ruin one's entire face as well
how disgusting it was
to ever think one would have a single chance
with gaining the one dream with such loose hope
One abhorred it with a heavy heart
miserable to unyielding limits.
Connected together with strings taught and weaved firmly,
would restrain one by the wrists
and bind them over the head
while one cannot struggle any longer
against the hole etched into the heart
,forcing every emotion bottled up inside to finally gush out
perhaps like the cracks of a jar unable to contain
such copious amount of water
But all those tears would render useless in the end
when no one is able to hear that voice anymore
And once the world falls in silence
have it be that a dream was clasped on too recklessly
later falling into a void of endless slumber