Fragments of life
Enclosed in dreams of this deep slumber.
Like fireflies wandering in the dark, hungry forests
Not illuminating them
But burning them down.
Slowly, carefully,
Like greed creeping in an innocent soul.
Ablaze sometimes and sometimes a tuft of smoke hard to find,
An orchestra at times and sometimes a lullaby at whose end you find your pillows wet.
Perfection at times and then a hollow, undying yearing of well, something.
Maybe that’s how it’s supposed to be?
Maybe you lived it in a day
And maybe I am still searching for it in the crooks and crannies of mundaneness.
And maybe I’ll never find it
Maybe I’ll spend all these precious moments I have
Looking forward to something which I still don’t understand,
Something so huge that I can’t even begin to grasp it’s meaning.
Maybe I’ll search and search
Till my feet are bruised and cut
Leaving a trail on the dark, forest floor.
Maybe I’ll just watch the fires burn
And then with all my maybes collected and stored carefully in the vaults of ny heart,
I’ll hit and be buried under the cold, unyielding snow
Still wearing the cloak of the last maybe on my soul.
That maybe,
I could’ve just burnt along with fire.
P. S. - Wrote after a long time. Would love all of your critics.
Hassaan @night_owl
💜💜💜
