As the moon unveils the shroud,
by anu arvind nair
of the pristine moving Clouds,
I see up and look into his eye,
Pain screeching as denial,
marks him out, makes him fragile.
As I walk alone, I lament,
that I am of no one's descent,
Walking so lone, on this turf,
seeking assurances from myself,
I walk on this long path- Life,
Undeterred, to seek what is the End,
Treading along, as the path leads me,
Forsaken, I thought of myself,
searching for someone as a kin,
I seek though wholeheartedly,
but always end-up at a crossroad,
But none was as staggering as this,
I found answers and reason,
so did belief and distrust arise,
Griping and taunting were the facts,
that for survival, loneliness is the Vial.
And like the moon before me... I screech in Denial! ! !