Loneliness


Oh! How am I forced to love
The mystic feeling of loneliness
In an early winter Sunday morning
When nature seems dead.
But the beauty in it is radiant
The misty air around me had suddenly
Began To Reek
A peppery whiff

As I gaze sadly beside the cenotaph
I’m caught in a quagmire yet again
Like a “ trapped monk”
I damn my sad loneliness
Feeble, just frail enough to breath
I was almost an Borrowed breath
Unable to query my opiate sense
I drift away from same rationale
Trapped under the defrins of a Moron life
I Quiver
A scary/ ogre awaits me
At the end of my reverie
To below me up into smithereens
I know the tight grip through,
But can’t alter the route of my life
I am surrounded by depression
I slough within its claws hoping for a brighter tomorrow
But alas, I forget
It is just a mirage of myriad
Unreal chimeras
Ready to ebb
As soon as I lay my hands on them.



About the author: Dr. Mihir Kumar Goswami is Prof. and Head of Department of Pulmonary Medicine, Jorhat Medical College Hospitals, Assam. [Read More]
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