Is it real, all of this
that stands before me waiting with open arms
few dreams, uncertainties and little joys in sachets
even then why does it feel empty, corroded , lifeless like those have no meaning , no importance
why are there distilled thoughts prodding my mind
questioning its existence ,its futility
is the fact that I take matters seriously
hold relations firmly that when they break, move away
a part of me dies within.
that stands before me waiting with open arms
few dreams, uncertainties and little joys in sachets
even then why does it feel empty, corroded , lifeless like those have no meaning , no importance
why are there distilled thoughts prodding my mind
questioning its existence ,its futility
is the fact that I take matters seriously
hold relations firmly that when they break, move away
a part of me dies within.