ashes of selves

we develop thorny armours

instead of love

then we blindly choose a coward’s path

with tails between our legs

while enshrining the perfect idealised enemies

hurting ones we thought we love

as a way of self-preserving

we guise it as a self empowerment

mistook it as power

selves that is none other but fear itself

helplessness as survival pride misrecognised

crying for help with our offences

hiding and muting fears

deafening broken calls

broken bodies

broken spirits

struggling away from liberation

will death emancipates us?

will in ashes of selves, love uprises?

there, the strong, the weak and the innocence of evil,
the aware, and the deluded
as well as the all encompassing fearful may mislead us

self is but an armory
of a contingent abyss of fearful noneness
always running to everything but itself

These lines are written, as if love is a higher armor
than death
than ashes
than fear
than brokenness
than hopelessness

is it?
to what sameness it seemingly contradicts?
the in between "darkness" may compares
to what light reality may disarmed
or undone