Eccedentesiast

A word that creates hopes,
Shatters faith, seldom hinders fates.
Why should thou sleep so effortlessly?
While there is a flower of the same kind
That longs to be nurtured by you,
While you only learnt to nurture yourself;
Why are you recurring in my concept of home?
Perhaps I am blind, wounded,
And awed by your exasperation.
Maybe you shall be ignoring
But I am hurting, Should I?
Should I stay? Should I continue like this?
This intensity grows while my heart
It simply fails to understand
Why there is a care and affection
For thou, that doesn’t feel moved – at all.
While I stay aback, I shall
Hide behind my smile – become Eccedentesiast
And start to stop myself from losing to you.
There is only darkness, a fog set, and
Nowhere can I will and shall intend to find you anymore
There is always an end to hopes Unfulfilled.
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