Routine

8:00a.m.
Emptiness is a shaking lips,
Ashamed to utter honesty.
It wastes itself voluntarily,
The finest words spelt in reverse.

3:00p.m.
Emptiness is a vacant memo,
Jotted with drops of damp sorrows.
In between two pages a wilted rose,
Kept to be tied up with a lover’s ego.

10:00p.m.
Emptiness is a barren room,
Swallowed by the sunken shadows.
The sullen sky behind the windows,
Resembles the home in a mother’s womb.

12:00am
Emptiness is a solemn music,
Bidding farewell to an elusive peace.
The noise still trembles; it never ceased,
Resounding from my dreams up to the attic.

8:00a.m.
Emptiness is a pale skin,
Suspended in the ceiling.
An anxiety overlooked in a poem;
A failure to give life a reason.

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