THE AWAIT
I trotted on the shore
With the waves swashing past me
As if to remove the holes of my life,
Whence, filling them to the brim!
Nature’s bliss knew no place
In the dead and lifeless soul of mine
‘Twas shallow with sins,
And hollow with no love.
My hopes were smashed
And I wished my problems receded
Just like the waves of the sea,
That portrayed the life of guilts.
The wind on the shore, to me,
Seemed to disgruntle my tears
Filled with pain and full of curses.
The breeze undermined my hope
That clung to my life like a drop of water
Trickling down my dried and cracked cheeks!
My own self smirked at me,
Drenching me in bouts of false woes.
My sorrows echoing back to me
On the still shore with
My cries reverberating
And manipulating my disgrace.
I walked on the deeply pressed sand
That now seemed to me like knives,
Trying to succumb to my own self;
I lie, awaiting the arrival of the unknown
In whose arms, might I find solitude.