Conflict

Neste poema que escrevi á poucos dias, falo do conflito entre o nao acreditar na existencia do amor e da necessidade de sentir este, de o procurar para se completar mesmo sabendo que nunca irá acontecer e que so irá sofrer com isso.

"Conflict"

What is it? Where are you?

An utopist matter created to fill blanks in our life

Creating an impossible objective of fulfillness

So we keep searching.

Motivated with naïve thoughts of happiness of that one day

It will be that which we all search...

The word I cannot tire of saying,

Emitting the false sense of its existence.

The expression of something I know doesn’t

But cry desperately in its need.

I say it constantly

So I fool my self into believing I Love You,

When you aren’t even there...

Figment of my imagination,

A goddess, Muse.

The motivation, peace of mind.

Calm serenity of emotions.

The Torment, the Pain.

It’s becoming a necessity/illness.

Something that makes me insane

And takes me tords death.

It's how I know I am alive...

Human...

But suffering is so beautiful.

Making me so happy, everyday I wake up with a smile,

Looking forward to another of pain

Caused by a faded anxiety of an unpurposed objective

Existing only in a uncertain future with you,

My reflection, my other self.

You’re all I want.

“There’s no place in the world I rather be,

Chained to you I am free”

nccuco