The ashes of another life are the blood supply in my heart,
I live in a no man's land forgotten by God,
Where to "feel is to believe" has been my motto.
This magical delirium has made my life a
"Kingdom of lies".
I am unable to recognize myself,
I look like a bizarre wretch who plays,
With the replays of sharp rifles.
I can't remember the day I wrote my first sonnet,
I am not able to hear the lyrical field of my life,
I am just clenched for war and survival,
Alzheimer's has made my lifespan a timeless watch.
When was the last time I held my son in my arms?
Which shooting star did I last ride into?
Why does my childhood seem foggy?
I seem to have no flashbacks from those
"Shredded Memories".
This hour of poetry seems so deceiving to be true,
I am forsaken by my own brain cells,
I am loathed by my own self.
Am I dead awake?
Or am I detested by Hades too?
Oh world!
Please spare me with a penny of mercy,
My heart is tirelessly working so that,
I can live in a world where I know nothing.
Mark my words when I say,
"I will not recognize the poem I wrote now".
For Alzheimer's disease is the writer of my story,
Or in a 100 words, there is no 'I' in my own play.

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