Yearn

The relationships that we create supposedly define us, but what are these relationships? Do they mean anything? And even if they do, then why do they mean as such? Maybe, they are mere cravings of our heart, which in itself is a fickle thing, as our heart wants so much, as our minds can't resist the tempations of the heart, they end up showing us what we want to see, and that is why an understanding is something our mind can't grasp and follows the heart wherever it may lead.

What have I become?
What had I been?
A stranger to someone,
An invisible stream,
Memories I hold,
But for purpose what?
For memories told,
Are no realities but, thoughts,
The words uttered,
Dissolve into thin air,
May they be muttered,
With the most audacious dare,
Everything passing,
Through a silhouette, decadent,
Mind abashing,
The purest remnant,
The hand stretches out,
For a warmth once known,
But minds doubt,
Stretches the throne,
Time is a healer,
True some say,
But ‘tis death’s dealer,
As every second brays,
Maybe this is life,
Maybe this is strange,
Maybe that is why,
We live deranged,
What had I been?
What have I become?
Maybe this is just a dream,
Dreamt in a fearful yearn.


'Till next time
;)