Sometimes it was for me,
and those thoughts were for me alone.
and at times it vanishes into
the darkest corner of my life.
the darkest shades of the pruned life
with all my eternal thoughts are in exile.
Searching of a home by
the striding in to the passing sideways,
running through the infinite lanes,
of an unknown city of menuquined fathom (disordered lampposts) and
floating on the path ahead the crouching(timid) old Pamphlets.
I look for my sisters, my friends hastily
into the brightest faces of the familiar passers by-;
but it seems to me of unrecognized quest on them,
as if the thought of loss has stolen
the generic of their emotion, the basic of being human.(nonchalant)
I move forward and shake their stunned body,
i also slap them , my being left an ambiguous
eventually I kiss them, insatiable as a flame
it doesn't dispel wonderer in me, they give me a mystical gaze
to let me watch if the thoughts have taken shelter there
or they might have left a clue or foot impression.
But no,its one of those faces which i am able to see,
is this my face with no turds and teds?
no trace of a route , no distant signs of the fugitive thought(in blue) (fugitives in blue)
and hence it(the Disapproval) drops me alone again,
in to the midst of the road of fathom and annoyance
the road which stretches little behind the infernal horizon
where the sun sets.
Oh there the sun sets??? i see the hope.
i get up, i subsequently collect my limbs
my knees scratched, my face bruised
i remove the dirt off my cloths, my chest holds the aghast, breathing
which is nearly making me off to spree. (Fear of never finding it...)
Is the sun who is the culprit, is he stolen my thought
or lured it for better moon?
i look in to the eyes of
the escaping sun, if i might see the answer in his coveted eyes
//within a stone's throw , I could have spit on his face
It wasn't the sun who stole my thought,
neither had the moon lured it away from me.
It was me who lost it all , as i wanted to grab it within.
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