My hope: an ant climbing mountain.
Never-ending wants in our deadlined life.
Innocents murdered to appease political bellies.
They say that home is where the heart lies...but where is it that the heart lies...? Heart is a like vagabond, a drifter, wandering place to place, never really calling one place its home. Even when it enters a realm where it belongs, within the realm it keeps roving. Not staying put in any one …
The morning came with its silent coolness. The freshness of the dew, today, had a lonely melancholy touch. As did my gaze as I stood by the familiar bay. But, nothing seemed familiar today. I felt like an abandoned child in an unknown land. Yet, this was the same place that greeted me every morning …
Shoe-sole and soul frayed trekking life.
Murderer of my existence...dear heart.
Pure-heartedness repaid by false-heartedness... Oh, Humanity!
Their poison seeped through my poetry.
This world... drowned in affectations' wave.