When I no longer find comfort within my own self,happiness seems obscure,as my heart creeps towards the depths of darkness,yearning for affliction….Pain caresses my soul,gently breaking it piece by piece.I see no stars bejewelling my skynor shrouded wisps of cloudsto capture an artist's eye.The note of my lyre has become dull,My life like lukewarm coffee,bitter and unappealingHatred,spreads through me like a plague….. But there are moments I wonder,How the sky can still be prettyeven in the absence of stars and clouds,For there are myriads of shadesto unmask it's beauty.Can't a dull melody ever be soothing?To please an ear which accepts change?Will a coffee ever be unappealing ,warm or cold,To someone who loves the taste?So why dwell on lingering hatewhen there…
Voice of thoughts on self love
