Creativity · My Pensieve

Awaiting Silence

Everyday, every moment, Drum beats of time Enter my soul Disturb my mind. Incessantly, Unendingly, Their throbs increase my heartbeat Until all I hear is the percussion Of blood Flowing in a mortal shell Which will crack open To reveal nothing But the goo Of flesh broken down By the constant thumping And pounding.


The Interview

Released from the doubt That plagued me forever, I think I have the answer To the question I did not ask ever. A question I needed to ask But knew not how to frame. Because the answer I received Puts my mental question To shame. The bubble has burst. Unasked questions are always the worst.