Running nose
Whining mind
Whose power to stop?
Category: poetry
Purposeless
When I long for one last hug
To be swept away with past
When there is no remains
No memoirs to remember me back
Can the ghost come back without the longing
To feel alone again, the cycle of emptiness
There is no purpose to come back
Even the lord is tired of looking at bundles of rag
The source has exhausted to the core
Nothing will sprout out of it
The seed has rotten now
Retrieval of past is lost forever.
oozingminds 