Outside rowdy winds are blowing hard
Ruffling the nerves inside,
Sometimes slapping me tightly
From flesh to bones;
I am sitting in the shadows of solitude
Counting the wanton clouds
Hanging over my head and shoulder
The pen in my hand records the pain
Jumping in the pumping chest,
Beating the fast breath of a sullen soul,
I am waiting for the good time
When blood has clots or knots on its flow.
Birds in the sky above enjoy the flight
While I wish to fight in order to fly
From the high mounts of my agony
Wishing for a fresh air of relief
To soothe me in the fold of my Self.
The world does nothing on its ground
Life just moves on, with the tides of time
Ocean in heart feels my cold,
The bold presence in the fire of fiery spirit
Of thoughts gives no room to gloom
Though feelings are all bruised
Dashing against hard blows of angst...