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.