I know not the spill of words,
Nor the essence in all courtesy.
Aroma of spilled ink,
Blackened words smeared affront,
Blankness on the rear front…
Dry rustle of parchments so old,
grey & deep brown within black all around.
I reside here…in an empty room, full of thoughts.
You ask what it’s like.
It’s exactly what melancholy hides!
The precise moment a schizophrenic believes,
All His amalgamated delusions.
The epicenter where sanity leaves the spectrum,
The quiver in the sand just before the dune,
The rumble in the water right before the quake,
I entered… in an empty room, full of thoughts!
Now comes the part where emptiness speaks,
It talks eons and epochs, Places geology masks.
Cues these stars sigh, Dimensions science defy.
Presents humanity as a mere tale,
Individual dots all worthless
Clusters upon clusters, This tale repeats itself
Moral reverberates – it has happened before
It will happen again, A circle all it mystify
This life and death – See the pattern all comply
Pupil of an eye synonymous to what a black hole imply
Crux of a walnut is a brain look-alike
What more?
The rotation of an electron resembles that of these orbs,
This earth we inhabit has six identicals,
The start of the universe was an expansion everlasting,
Ages passed, what expanded is now contracting.
Back to square one, Clusters upon clusters
All we see is a circle.
Time is the key we debate
As it rotates, fate calibrates
A star is born every hundred years
Thousands were born, thousands died
A repetition over gazillion years
If mere tale was the purpose
Evolving, growing, dissolving
What is there this life justifies?
The last particle is taking its dip,
This hourglass has taken its fill
It’s time – leave the room.
For these thoughts, have become still!
