Root

I know its a really bad habit and its always depressing to read jaded and weary posts everytime you hit my blog but its a true source of release for me.

It's hard to accept a 'sorry' when a mistake been made way too many times.
It gets harder to accept with each hurt.
Isn't it?

And the problem gets so bad when you listen to it, yet you know the root of the problem is yourself.

Caught in between practicality and passion, what would you choose?
Neither sides are easy choices to give up, if giving up was ever an option at all.

The mist hides so many things at night,
the problems of a lone soul
lay covered.
Hiding was never an option,
just a temporary refuge.
To quench the thirst and hunger
of an emotional solitude.
Feelings to show, never manifested,
because they were forced to be still,
to keep the bridge uncontested.
Through a crack in the hourglass
sand trickles through.
Time that is lost,
because of an unforeseen cue.
How many of these cues,
can one start to comprehend?
When it is the individual,
who naturally plays the card from his hand.
A fault that no one can attribute,
for justice seeks reason,
but the world is not governed
by such high treason.
Is love like a flower,
that eventually dies?
Or is something else more eternal,
I dearly wish this weariness
would wear off.
So I could say goodbye to it,
and hello, beckoning hope.