The world spinned, on and on, in circles and ellipses
The days grew into nights, the moon inspired some more songs
The pounding of heart, the beating of a storm
The curve of a pen sliding on a parchment I’d torn before
I tried to write
I tried to rhyme
I tried to phrase
But words fell short of the tumultuous feelings I’d kept trapped inside for so long
What was it?
What was this urgency building up inside me?
What do I call this hurried rush of saliva wetting my tongue locked in silence at the things going around?
What were these sighs, releasing in a disoriented fashion apologising for all the things I chose to ignore?
And then suddenly,
swifty,
a trickle of wet remorse ran down my cheeks
drowning – all the so called realities mortality had created
all the flesh eating desires
all the awful mortal expectations I had from other mortals
all the dreams that were wisps of desires appearing-disappearing in the nothingness of sleep
all the shackles I had let the world put on me to become another ideal being chaining the next generation
all the boundaries of caste, creed, religion, colour, race and other nonsense
all the conspiracies of beings higher than us in the skies to keep us fighting, to keep our peace away
And in the light of what remained,
I saw remorse cure me of the tempest,
Unclogging my visions to see what I was
Just a mass of flesh and bone,
living out days till it’s made to return to dust.