Let’s say, for the sake of not saying,
There has been a point to wander without a clue,
To defer away from the meaning and the true needs,
To realise that whatever is done is without anything real.
There’s a beginning as if a drop turning out to be a river,
There’s a way as if the same river transversing passes,
There’s a destination as if that same river becoming a sea,
Then, there’s a question as to why it all happened and it was a wise question indeed.
As I kept them closer to be felt buffed with pride that they were there for me,
As I led them where I was leading, I must have felt alone when I reached there,
As I came to know that they were feeding from me and they remained hidden from me,
I knew then that there was nothing much left to do, other than to be with them or lose.
It’s all a circle, what came before, will eventually come next,
It’s here to stay, the feeling of not having anything at all,
It’s something that I designed to comfort me and now, it hurts,
As much as it won’t question the outliers and outcasts like me.
Yes, it is an outburst, from my understanding of what has gone wrong,
Terrible it has been, knowing that so stuck I am with the known rules of me,
As if everything suited me, it be unknown to the world and it be going un-noticed,
Certainly at a time when I wanted everything to be known, everything to be blown otherwise.
I got it all right when the right wasn’t known to the world,
Got it all when nothing was there to be yielding anything from,
They called those ways or paths, in fact, it was just pointing directions,
To places, ideas, people who were right, always as if they were living and knowing.
If there’s nothing to believe, so I will not, anything or everything that will try bringing something like this,
Because now I did, knowing that all of it will continue to happen and I will end up here all over again,
Muses I do hear, but all they want to tell us is how much of everything I’ve repeated only to be caught red-handed,
I talked and did everything towards nothing I knew about and I continued pretending I do.
This place, this idea, the being is where, if he thought he would have been, would have been the best to be,
Or the place where he’s led and now there’s no way back home, pointing life’s misdeeds as the catalyst of it,
These words run awkwardly through the ripples of life, realising I could have been better off without ever knowing it,
Realising that it’s wise to call ourselves wise or realising that realising isn’t the thing to do when life is all but hurting.
