Seeking the worth, time flies high
As if a loop, I fall back to where was I
A process it is, Am I expecting an exempt ?
with birth I rose and I seem to glow with perfection
while every breathe is a countdown, ceasing the life i know,
the end of who I believe I am, as I grow
Where am I failing ? I find my body, my worth
While It's a warning, I breath every second, nearing my end
And I fail to see, its just bones and muscles, they just pretend
I fail to realize my worth, what's in here that the breathe feed?
The true has never been the truth, and nor it will be
I feed the chaos, I feed the greed,
With every breathe I take, its just the future I live.
While breathe is the moment and it can just feed the present
I still am seeking the worth as time flies,
may be, I have never taken a breathe, I've never lived a life
Life is a presence as the breathe is ,
the thoughts, this haze, all that the future creates
It was never me, it was never my body
I am failing, as living in future is never meant to be
I live now, I breathe for now,
the worth is to merge with presence
Its a loop. I realize.
I have never felt tomorrow's essence.
The trap , the clouds, the wave that it seem,
may be this is why, future is a dream
The Silence, answering everything
Stillness, making it worth the living,
Its today, its the presence, the breeze that I inhale,
the long breathe that fills every corner and every edges
That's my eternal who I realize i am feeding,
That's my creation who I am constantly seeking
That's the moment when I am actually living.
1 comments:
You searched for worth
in the ticking of seconds,
in the echo of “what’s next,”
as if time could ever answer you.
But time only moves—
it never explains.
You called breath a countdown,
a quiet thief stealing pieces of you,
yet it was never taking—
it was knocking,
again and again,
asking you to arrive.
Not tomorrow.
Not the version of you
you keep chasing in thought.
But here—
where your chest rises
without asking permission.
You feared the end
in every inhale,
yet missed the miracle—
that each exhale
lets you begin again.
You are not the loop,
not the noise that returns,
not the future pretending to be urgent.
You are the pause
between two breaths—
the only place
time forgets to exist.
And in that silence,
where nothing needs proving,
you were never failing.
You were only wandering
too far from now.
So come back—
not as someone new,
but as someone who finally sees:
There was never anything to become.
Only this—
this breath,
this moment,
this quiet, endless arrival.
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