the enigma of truth.

truth be told, there’s no full moon.

tried to flap my wings and fly away from danger,

all I did was standing still and not moving a single bit.

These voices playing in my head,

‘its you, all this time, it’s you.’

feeling like a cocoon that’s not growing.

feeling like moving backwards, not forward.

and I am left with all of the questions that’s left with unresolved answers.