This is such a beautiful poem. I love the imagery in it. x
Neither man nor woman,
Is held captive
By its self inflicted doubt,
The ever growing doubt,
Ultimately transforms into the bolt,
The bolt by which the door is held in its place,
The door between greatness,
And futile existence.
The barricades of fantasy
Could burn reality,
And desires if they are built
On the ground of anxious thinking.
Instead of water,
The drops of rain feels like needle,
Instigating abrasion of agony,
Only if we strip ourselves,
Only if we empower our doubts.
Only if we incubate in the shells,
The fragile yet unbroken shells of doubts.