• mushers_ink 10w


    Blaring sirens beckon you to hide somewhere

    These days melting into nights with no warning

    The puppeteer is asleep , the strings still

    But the wood in marionette imbibed his script

    They still move mechanically with no mind of their own; controlled

    The rhythm is a monotonous line; resembling the decaying heart

    The monochromatic tone of its softened brain; dying and robotic

    Cerebral motives ;passion but lack there of

    A steady hum; with no disruption but bored ideals

    No flickering; a weak slashed line with no beats

    A tensed thread; ready to break anytime, desperate to snap

    Dust settled on top of eyelids; not ready yet to see the chaos

    For how long do I get to wait?

    To break the chain?

    It’s getting late.

    I am tired

    but I haven’t given up, yet

    I cut my teeth on this monotony.