Profile picture of user: _anvates_

_anvates_

3w ©

Infront of you it stands. What ever it could be. Where ever it lands. What ever it'll let you see. To you by demand might be prescribed, for better of worse. Yet it too might be derived from ones' choices first. It could be standing near you. It could be walking beside you. It could be waiting well infront of you. If you can comprehend, it's not behind you. Others greatly affect it, there is little way you can protest. Yet do not wait and idly sit, to goals to which you must attest. It's something that can not expire, until you in your mortal finality retire. Then you might move on to another kind, when soul separates from body and mind. What might it be? This thing that can trap or free, anything and all we see, in a cycle of endless soul seeds.

Comments(6)

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Profile picture of user: s_zaynab_kamoonpury

Fine intrigue! Plz also read and comment my newest poem too

Profile picture of user: lifeinslomo

I like how poetry allows us to form our own interpretation. Imo, you're talking about mortality.

Profile picture of user: sidusferam

Hmm, death👀👀

Profile picture of user: _anvates_

What do you feel the poem is talking about? I'd love to hear everyones' perspectives :)