A PROBE

Moaning beside the crust of bread, One day, I used to give up food.

Thinking of fulfilling dream, I discarded the reality that would

Perhaps excite the excuse of staying alive.

Drinking the floating bubbles over the stream,

And checking the balance of despair lay upon my bed,

I bought the blowing wind that might push me up awake

Till my old love would come and say

“The fresh and decent glimpses of smooth eyes

Have already found its place in the gloomy patches of

peeling darkness.”

Vulnerability stares now with unmitigated fear.

In snooze, I tremble in nightmare.

Smelting the sympathy from long drawn silence,

For a moment, hiding myself under the creased bedspread,

With passive nonchalance, entwining mercy and disgrace,

Somehow, manage to escape the hunger, screaming within the

Tattered existence,

I wait and count the moments to forget the empty bowl,

That seeks for food, that cries for water,

And to be fulfilled with morsel of desire.

For the sake of forgetting, to be buried and redeemed

The soul, that‘s splintered and inert-

I hung upon my old life, reeling in the mire of sloughed despair.