Jaded

Back to the patch I’d abandoned a while ago…had no manure of thought to nurture the dried gorge.
Within the confines of my mind I narrated an epic weaved out of strenuous thoughts and impossible possibilities. Alas! they remained just there, perished they with time and time with them. Moved with the winds, the fluttering soul, from pastures to dry lands, from oceans to the sea, from the clouds to the waterbeds, in the quest to just be.
To be or not to be, is a thought which the mind will concede, for all the efforts to provoke the answers, the language of words is but a mystery.
The road is not stretched as the cliché would go, but with every step it gets paved, so keep the momentum of pace, let the feet be unidirectional for if you stop, there will be no road to tread for thee.

There surround me many commons in which I’ve dissolved, imbibed their identities and gained what I lacked before. Needn’t that be positive? For the persona is beyond a VIBGYOR, where the shades of gray darken to a maroon depth and drenched in it is my quest. Forsaken is the unseen, and for the sake of the seen I move towards the future, daylight or twilight will only be the answer, eventually.

The inner being is an abandoned well, donning a mosaic of cobwebs. Neither voice nor light penetrates to the bottom and hope yells to throw a sullen tantrum. There are steps to climb up where lives the existence, but they’re all broken old and worn with slimy moss glossing the threshold.

Sitting at the base I think of my days, when thought was a luxury and mind a fertile womb. Those were the times when future was an impeccable rhyme, when dreams were virtually a reality and reality was all mine. There was no worry for papa and mamma took care of the life that could be dreary, but past is always a sweeping tale of fairies.
Ears yearn for the music of yester years, eyes flounce from corner to corner, but spaces all empty defy the hopes and leave me with a vacant floor.
I move with the crowd, changing tracks, imitating destinations to lead me to mine but I move and I change and fear that nothing of myself will remain. People shut me up and I reciprocated the same, to this date I stand like a repulsive disdain.

I loved them once and still do today for they were my ground on which I build castles, now rumbles of yesterday.
To let go is the truth that resides with me; my roommate is none other than a forbidden me. Places are accommodating people and people are consolidating within the places, with so much of movement I still stay stagnant. Each day I promise to my being that above the dust I will rise, but the wind blows the dust with it, leaving me with a vision, blur.

Aww, not again I crib, snarl at the wind, abuse the dirt, and ask them to back off for I need to move first. They laugh and holler, move swifter and rise taller, belittling my dream and me, they move to the skies shunning my being.
Teary eyes don’t say it all, I stand up and make a promise..after all..

Will fight the past and fill up the pits, for they are the graveyards of all the myths. No more I anticipate to be understood, the wise will do the needful. Those who disagree will now have to give me reasons, for I won’t shut up, over are those seasons.