Where shall I carry this aching soul
overwrought by time
moss overgrown relics of the body
smacking of changing clime?
The burden of thousand indecisions
lurking in some uneasy, active corner
that pulls the mind down
and imperfections of sorts
urging one to rise up to dull repetitions
even in face of the proverbial lotus
retreating to deep waters
that keep us bound to battered breaths
in the shores overrun with mud and slime?
We pause to ponder over anomalies,
dreams dead and destructions,
shrink back, sigh for a while
but to shovel forward again
trying hard by not to be bogged down
by the business of living
but to reconstruct fractured selves
with the help of some new rhyme!