The Inexplicable

Quite often I wonder

How my life is all asunder,

Am I the epicenter

Of a world decentred,

Or just a remainder stub

Swirling in the whirlpool of a tub!!

Throwing a glance at the looking-glass

Often I imagine “Oh what a pretty lass!”

But mirrors are meant to lie

To make your self-esteem high,

For when realities strike

And life’s clocks go on strike,

We are thrown back

Into the dingy corners of our mind’s shack,

Our dreams, desires and all that jazz

Are meant only for us to heave and spaz,

Erased are the goals of accomplishments

Dead are the hopes of all fulfillments!!

Intrepidly treading in perdition’s vale

Racing through my fading memory’s lane,

I see in a distance a flickering ram of light

I pursue and chase, as if a mirage in sight,

The sun angling the ram’s shadow on the sand

The contoured silhouette is but of a man,

I look up and stare blank to reassure my surprise

It was indeed the man of my dreams, I could surmise,

Joy-stricken I skip, jump and rush to catch him

Only to realize it was all but a dream,

The vale, the ram, the man, his shadow and dusk

Was only a peeled dream, a stripped desire, a desiccated husk,

All that remained was a feeling of pain

Injecting me all over again.