Is thinking of the future, imagining reality, all an illusion?
Whistling through the silence,
A sudden impulse blinds reason,
There is somewhere fear; hiding in oblivion,
And a sort of indifference giving way to idleness,
I’m sort of worried, weak and lost,
But courageous, sure and confident.
However the world still seems like a useless, handicapped autocrat,
It can just sit and pass orders,
Smoke a puff of ironical authority, and
Display a will of rusted iron.
I can’t help it; I want to, but still I can’t,
It’s past nighttime; I’m still thinking of what the heck should I do,
I’ve crossed the limit of stars and transcended the boundaries of imagination,
My body is here, but my mind is somewhere in the universe.
I just can’t stop thinking of the future,
I just can’t stop imagining reality,
However, all this seems like a dull illusion,
That’s being casted by some weird drug of insanity.
However, I’m still trying to focus; be there,
But I can’t, I’m still wandering.
The cold gives me chills,
The silence warms me up,
The noises amuse me,
The sky makes me feel bouncy,
But why can’t I make out what I should do?
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This poem is Copyright © 2014 by Ayushi Mehrotra. It cannot be reproduced without express written consent. Codey's World web site has written permission to publish this poem. No other rights are granted.
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