moulding.

those are untraceable contours, dear.

we are walking ,

endlessly.

never really pausing the story.

although the subtle decisions ,

they are there.

---

but onto the harbour of sorrow,

one could not feel it.

you are the chosen one ,

thats what they say to every kid.

---

you are unique rohan.

oh, is he?

i cant trace the integrity of it.

in every mirror i find,

the reflections arent quite the same.

they changes,

shifting with the light ,

with the angle

and the quite trajectory of the world.

---

the paths you took to save you,

are concluding your fate

holding the command ,

which you never intended to give

yet it remains in your soul

lurking quite - behind those dozen walls.

---

giving them a hand to judgement ,

is like giving them -

a privilege.

which they dont even deserve?

you were too naive to understand that.

are u a fool?

or are you ashamed?

---

ashamed of yourself, for -

being the one you didnt confess.

being the one you couldnt accept.

being the one who rely on noises ,

rather than intuition.

---

afterall , its your own show -

more of acircus .

where everything is gestured ,

by those beings

who values you little.

---

generation does suck,

it sucks the nectar of your persona-

“your own aura”

moulding.

into a clone carved by expectations,

not divinity.

---

you are who you were made ,

not who you wanted.

you are not becoming ,

still rising on their shadows .

maybe thats the whole truth-

of lulling the desires ,

and embracing roving of personalities.

---

still living in a rolled up lie -

you are unique?