Philosopher's Pen

Wings of time, I am told you can fly faster than the wind You travel from end to the end of seas season in and out Yet you fly so slowly when I wish you could fly faster I am told you are a healer Why are you doing your work so patiently Why can't you touch the bones and flesh that have fallen out of place in a snap I am told you also give mercy to the lonely Why can't you give it when it is needed the most Wings of time Fly with me to what is logical for a life Wings of time  Show me the logic of life Show me the ultimate calculation Show me the final answer to my unknown Show me my x

When the ink drops on the page The persona is tabularasa  He cares neither of the wind nor calm The poet is the all-powerful God Midway the page The persona loses himself In the process of self-discovery Experimentation in the name of experience For no stroke of the feather is the same Somehow he knows that the poet decides the last stanza Whether the story is a happy ending or a tragedy Despite taking control The poet is firmly in control The persona is completely without control Or maybe the poem is a perfect tango between the will of the persona and the poet The free will of the persona is as long as the tither of the poet The twist of his fate is a product of his will And the desire of the poet However, the poem ends The concept is tragic

The fact that the reason to hold on is bigger than the reason to give up Does not trivialize your pain The fact that you neither shed a tear nor made a sound Does not mean you never cried The fact that you smiled all through the ceremony does not mean you were happy The fact that you are alive and happy Does not mean you aren't dead A strange ghost animating your body Not your dream self The fact you woke up with a plan Does not mean you aren't drifting through life The fact that you love a song Does not mean it makes you happy The fact that you woke when the alternative seemed lucrative Tells that you have outsmarted the paradox once more

Sometimes all the shit come at once like a major episode of dysentery They catch up with you in terrible places where your shame should not show People look at you clean and healthy not knowing how long you have been holding it up for their comfort And may be for the safety of your reputation You don't feel sure if letting a little fart would let the whole thing out So you hold up even the list of your pain Fearing it would embaras you Yes emotional dysentery  Very painful but you can hold it up for days months years and may be more But one day it catches up with you The you spill the manure in the place you were always expected to be mature Or it kills you because suddenly you can't breathe I know that it is hard to let it go But a talk with me can do you some good Don't hold it up