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Absurd Thoughts
That went away, this came in. This went away too, that may come in.
The thiss' and thats' never seem to end.
It's like an ongoing viscious cycle, pulling and drowning one ray of hope from the body.
That makes the soul one ray less happier.
A self questioning sublimes on the surface waiting to break through the web so strong.
A desperate wish to ask may not know who, but someone who would not nurse a breaking heart.
Instead help the breaking strings.
A saying was there which echoed; strings that grew and drew along, were difficult to snap.
Truly said, the ones that never grew, went by unfelt and unnoticed.
The very few left a stab of pain and deserted grounds.
Barren enough not to be cultivated enough for long.
Trust seemed a far cry, a trial once more didnt seem exciting.
The outcome would be the same, history has it all.
In vengeance, not to the thiss' and thats'; but to the destiny, a devillish thing screamed to be devillish.
It screamed on the want of hurting.
It winced on the want of self-infliction.
It craved for the flesh to burn, coz seething within wasn't enough.
It felt like crying, but waited for the rains to come.
Yet this devillish thing couldn't take form.
A fear was there not in ruining oneself, but on loosing count of the thiss' and thats'
The count by itself sounds so good, wish it stayed whenever i thought of it.
Wondered and was nearly positive something bigs really wrong with me.
But if it were so, why in the first place it stayed for this long.
If it were to go, why a false base was formed.
The true self was always before.
The gathering to become one, became possessive and did the extra bit of caring.
For one soul always required a heart and a hand.
To absorb and soak all that what perished.
What perished in the end, was the thiss' and the thats' and the me's with them.
Once more am a barren land, incapable of cultivation and nurturing.
Coz on the left side of the bodily form, all that remains is but a path trampled upon several
times, grey and granite.
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