Outside rowdy winds are blowing hard Ruffling the nerves inside, Sometimes slapping me tightly From flesh to bones; I am sitting in the shadows of solitude Counting the wanton clouds Hanging over my head and shoulder
The pen in my hand records the pain Jumping in the pumping chest, Beating the fast breath of a sullen soul, I am waiting for the good time When blood has clots or knots on its flow.
Birds in the sky above enjoy the flight While I wish to fight in order to fly From the high mounts of my agony Wishing for a fresh air of relief To soothe me in the fold of my Self.
The world does nothing on its ground Life just moves on, with the tides of time Ocean in heart feels my cold, The bold presence in the fire of fiery spirit Of thoughts gives no room to gloom Though feelings are all bruised Dashing against hard blows of angst...
