No ideas decorate the thoughts of me.
Even within the silent woods, the beauty I am unable to see.
I see the beautiful waves lashing against the shore,
But my thoughts, my poetry seem belonging to days of yore.
I try hard to think, but the mind does not yield,
It seems my inspiration, my mirth has for ever been sealed.
The emptiness within, stirs up a commotion,
So much that, I see darkness even in the presence of the bright sun.
All songs sound the same now, All roads look the same now,
Finally in front of my emptiness, my soul begins to take a bow.
As I begin my descent from my pride to the humble ground,
I realize that the lost simplicity I may have found.
I realize the roads were the same, the sea was the same,
But the pride within me began to see them as a shame.
These friends, who gave birth to the poet within me,
I had abandoned them, while trying hard , at the sky to see.
As I descend back amongst them,
I wonder, if it would be only a mask, if I have shame.
I now realize the void within, so hollow.
That even I would not trust myself as a fellow.
I fall back hard, with a loud thud,
Devoid of thoughts, of ideas, and of pride, I am again a fresh bud.
I am a human, I need to start again,
Just that, this time I won’t lose the trust that I gain.
I again see the road, I again see the smile.
I know my friends have returned …… to help me reach the mile.