Brings to my mind options,
Options to a place
A place where my life and peace may affirm on a notion.
Tells me things,
Things that after which I may be free.
This urge tells me
That I may trade my breath for bread
That there’s beauty in death,
That I’d better release myself and be set free.
I fight to stay rigid on love
As I eye my selfishness
And guilt painfully unpleasing
To take this path,
To leave them mourn in the cold
In darkness and distortion,
And the sorrowful episodes of my mother.
© Mustafa Khan A.