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Venkatesh R

Abstract Tragedy Classics


4.5  

Venkatesh R

Abstract Tragedy Classics


The Devil Within Me

The Devil Within Me

2 mins 288 2 mins 288

The demon within me yells 

As the coalition fails to meet 

Expectations.

As I incept, the nightmare of

Innocents by taunting them with my spell,

As they attempt to have the work-life 

Balance, with ludicrous reasons 

For delinquencies.


The beast within me slays with Anger,

Where the corporate of gentleness, 

Gets descends with the shadows of 

My miscreant.


With flamingos eyes, 

The words of the blaze, from hell, I

Pour into the affectionate hearts, 

Of the dependents.


As the elders perceive themselves, 

As an unnecessary 

The trauma of discerning, 

In the aisle of my survival ridge.


The beast within me slays with Anger,

Where the home of love, descends 

With the shadows of 

Camouflaged devotion with hatred.


After all, existence isn't easy.

After all, time doesn't show mercy.

After all, Anger isn't a controlled emotion.

After all, I am too humane, 

Not a saint with immunity.


We can't oblige life, with anticipation.

Though they are unavoidable, 

It ruins a delightful composition 

Called relationships with spasms.


Not all malicious emotions, 

Reaches from the soul, 

Hope the admired ones understand.

Stress, depression, and insecurity

Mold a personality, with the mirage 

Of adverse vibes as certainty.


The exhaustion of scouring, 

Scratches of my memory strips, 

Reduces my malleability, 

And often it gets isolated by me 

And by my family.


While me being, a secluded, menu with broader expiry dates, and ranges trying to confront life without conditions applied.


I comprehended 

I am helpless, as a Buffon with

The demon within me feasting my soul.

I choose to be silent, 

By not revealing the reason for my Anger.


Anger, when it gets channelized rightly 

To the proper person, it's not a 

Bad emotion.


But an Anger, out of your complexion, 

Which arises often for petty reasons,

Maybe because of depression.


The poem is an attempt to focus on depression.

How it tarnishes our confidence and personality by haunting the respectable ones and family with irrational emotions.

No one is alone, in the league of Buffon.

We need to seek help, We need to take a break, a Smiling mask doesn't help, it just gets worse.


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