Notes of my Pulse
Like a speck in the east wind
I traveled in the mix of sharp detours
Leisurely in the breath of my thoughts
Feeling naked in the wilderness of it
Backed up by haunting memories
Mostly fuelled by imagination
The nerve in me hissed a silent whisper
A question of broken phrases...
You never knew the answer right?
Nor that question, that signifies this flow
This play of shadows have a script on its own
"Try" and getting "Tired" is the routine of it
To tremble the veins in my heart
My mind played its every darkest shade
Anxiety, Fear, Love, Lust, Anger
Many more in regular installments...
Subtle comfort, Occasionally
Searing pain, frequently
Of all the musings that I hear
What is mine? Where am I?
Am I a stranger to my own words
As I struggle in the breath of loneliness
Is this a journey, forever...
Or a sojourn of mixed halts
That teases you with almost every taste
As I walk on this road for a next leap
The adjacent street sign is still a blur
I smile, tired enough to cry...
Will I find my half lit home?
That's just strong enough to lean on
To put my bruised back,
Will I find a facade?
To relax my eyes from that dense light,
Will I find that silence?
To breathe and sleep in the sound of it...