…
The moon blinks,
behind a tapestry of clouds,
while sounds of the night,
engulf the city,
soaking up,
the remnants of today.
…
I sit alone,
the heavens embracing me,
and a long-lost sense of belonging,
returns,
to hush all gloom.
…
I am one,
alone,
at ease now,
lost in the midst,
of countless shimmering suns.
…
I am one,
alone,
though not lonely,
and as the blanket of darkness,
caresses my soul,
I am assured,
soothingly,
that I am me,
and,
that I am whole
…
1.
Bygone moons,
have waned,
and,
yesterday’s flowers,
silently wilt,
while,
tomorrow’s promise,
recedes.
2.
Alone,
at rest within my vault,
peaceful, serene, wrapped in hushed tranquil nothingness.
3.
Yet loneliness stings,
scratching at scabs,
as old wounds,
linger,
fester,
even as,
I mask the ache,
by smearing on,
the smile of a jester.
4.
Laughing aloud,
peppering moments with banal chit-chat,
while
sipping tea,
quietly suffocating,
asphyxiated by everyday’s shroud.
5.
The vacuum within,
stays,
ever-present,
always,
through days of feigned mirth,
between lunch and supper,
as the lonesome heart,
rebels,
fights,
screams out,
in a desperate, though muted plea.
6.
All the while,
the passing parade,
moves on,
leaving me,
to rehash,
scribbled verse,
and,
this sorry charade
….
Scribbled Verse 