By Kanksha
Craving thunders, I grew.
Engulfing darkness, I lived.
Strings of a web, wooven into my soul, I learnt.
Horror was my genre.
Diving in the depths of thorns,
Built as a hobby.
The taught me this.
That world did.
Piercing my heart was my security.
Peace? That enemy?
I fought with it, with all my anger.
I am a human supposed to live in agony.
Agony is my pride.
Other things soothing the soul, are hoax.
I was taught this, my identity.
Walking on the thornes was my goal.
Indeed life was supposed to be this!
The right way of breathing!
You don't know how much these helped me in designing my life.
The pieces of heart I broke were the way to my landing place.
Snatching away the giltter of others was my only right.
I studied this in the books they wrote.
What my eyes saw, so far in my life.
My breath being a mashup with pain.
The god could never touch me, as he doesn't exist,
I am the ruler.
The king, no one can punish in any time.
The king, nobody could have even helped.
Or look with love in the eyes.
Maybe I craved it, because I never felt it before, or I actually did?
My memories won't reply.
I don't know what the world told me was ever right!
I still crave thunders but wonder what the sight of peace would look like.
Maybe no body ever did it right.
By Kanksha
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