Thursday, January 12, 2006

Prose I

Author’s note:
It is a long time since I can remember that I have written prose. Now, the prose that I will write shall be numbered in the Roman Numeral Form and would delve on just about anything.

Prose I

I need to calm my deprived silence,
Into its reverie
I was consciously lost in words and action
And tightly muzzled in an endless confusion.
Why it was it my fault to fall for you?
When I was completely corrupted by your charm.
Times like these would be my enemy,
When you’re unaware of these solitary thoughts,
And dealing with them is a burdensome load.
Emancipate this passion,
Hurt me to the fullest.
Terminate the niceties you give me
To give this affection an impending end.