It’s the dazzling dark in the light
The core of the bulb, always too bright
Enjoyable solidarity as long as it’s within sight
And my soul, thinking of sky-high kites
But what I see,
Is a bottomless pool of dull white lights,
Leading nowhere, just to a heap of plights.
Alluring heights of the times seem lost
I believe they are mishandled by me like the unpredictable frost
And no one can really know what would it cost.
The false sense of independence
That has room in my mind,
Leading to all these
Abstract fears of mine,
Are often listed as mind games by them
And I am brushed off often,
When I say I am alright.
As what they see, is a girl tangled in ridicule
The ‘dazzle’ in the dark is not always beautiful,
The grace of diamonds too, sometimes leave scars
And with all these walls and all my bars
It’s true like the memory jar,
I am not dissolved if I am not the Sirius star.
The feeling of belongingness fights the vivid fear of fading the best in my books.
I wrote this piece when my emotions were fading. When even appreciating the best and criticising the worst becomes difficult.