Born To Shatter
--
Created in the image,
of another,
without a soul,
just a clear glass tile.
Paper thin my size,
You keep looking,
at me through,
your eyes.
Let me correct,
You look through me,
I am expendable,
for I am dependable.
I sacrifice myself to protect,
What lies behind,
Like man who lies,
To protect his ties.
I survive the fall,
But the torment,
Doesn’t end,
Nobody can mend.
For broken is broken,
Shattered is shattered,
Cracks are nice they said,
I wish they were on them laid.
My fate to be broken,
In the clumsy hands,
Wondering about foreign lands,
I count my days now.
I want to break enough,
It is enough,
The clear body of mine,
Lays tattered all time.
I wish to be thrown,
And flown to sewers,
Searching for the,
Promised land.
I will not get reduced,
To sand again,
The burning made me,
Clear.
The suffering makes me,
Want to return to,
Grains,
For I want no more pains.
I will have my,
Promised land,
And get reduced to sand,
I’ll wait a million years.
For that is my poor fate,
Like people together,
But still apart,
I will lay in sand,
Until I get my promised land.
Abhishek Verma is a researcher in the field of deep learning and artificial intelligence. He likes to write about the logical way of self-improvement. Spurred by emotions, he also likes to write poetry. Stay in touch by joining his newsletter. Follow him on Facebook, Twitter, Instagram, Pinterest and Mix.
