Clouding

Behind the uncontrollable urge to reside my essence in the form of its true meaning
I walk up and down the street
Ruminating on time buried under the dark warm earth
I put my ears to ground and try to hear
The soft murmuring of the movement of still life
Unaware to our naked eyes
I follow my gaze from the base of a trunk to the highest branch of the tree
Wondering why sunlight loves to sieve through it
The water that grumbles on a disturbed layers of sea
What do they tell or do they even crave to?
Proving their presence. Or is it their essence?
That they have found out after immortal years of their existence
And if they have, how do these things of nature actually feel now
Specifically after becoming tools of mere selfishness in the very intentions of ignorant humanity.
With this unanswered inquisition I return back to my own cloud.

Falling in Love?

If there is one thing I can hold true in my heart
It's the falsity of love
The growing tension between the nerve endings
The wrong impression of reflexes
The process of manipulating reality and all our past impressions already starts
We are making room for something new... from the same old
Over-beautifying every sound,
The involuntary actions become utterly encoded.
This concurrence is a mere chance,
A permutation of time and space
But this is where our fall starts
And we plunge head over heels
For few days,
Weeks, or months,
Untimely coinciding with the projection of each other's feelings
Failing the auto sync, eventually.

Shadows of Absence

I see the shadows around me
Of all the things I lack
Darker than the darkness
Which could no longer be taken as grant
The shadows that are gravely silent
Than any haunting death
Glaring at me defiantly
They mock my very sense
Of being and believing
In what holds me from the truth
And I, with my failed efforts
Walk towards these black holes.

Contemplating the Delusions

How can I change and unfurl
When, wherever I go and whomever I meet, 
Is a projection, a continuity
Of all I have left behind, or had been.

How shall I renew when everything of mine
Resurfaces from time to time
And the shadow of my former self triggers the reactions
Drawing out a confused image of my mind. 

How shall I shed my skin off
Relieving my self from the dead longstanding burden
Which shall stay and define my sub-conscious
In all my future lives. 

When by the end of the day I sit and summon all my differently forgotten selves
For a feast of delight in the dreams that we had sought, in respective phases of time,
And share the differences, wondering how much I have changed—
Have I really...?

Fearing

We always feel ourselves changing
In the dark narrow lanes of intolerable voids
Which erupts and breaks the silence between our ears
Rocketing our hormones
Exploding our loneliness in the charcoal waters of our only vent
That may seem out through eyes, mouth, or limbs;
An utter intolerance,
Where we get stoned and see the moments slipping past—
And our old self, and our old selves disappearing like smothering clouds of smoke—
And our dreams that we shed off to rot in ashes.
We are afraid to float through this change
Wishing to summon all our loved ones
And say them a last goodbye through our another losing self,
Every other moment.