This vast stinky lake,
I don't remember what dragged me here,
Nor the choices I did make,
That ended me up where I am.
I'm a leaf on windless days.
Indifferent, Clueless, In aimless ways.
That's how I have always been,
Without a trace.


But as I,
Keep sinking deeper and deeper,
I seem to have a clearer vision,
Of what I've done and what I've felt.
Regret sharpens,
And memories seem less hazy.
Yeah here,
I've found it.
Do you remember when I talked about,
That intense feeling of unfamiliarity,
About how I could never,
“Figure you out”?
What have been encircling your face,
Has got me to see that,
No matter how much I knew about you,
I will never know you.
Was it this which got me,
Fleeing away?
I'm not quite sure.
Well, no way.
It was something else,
That I Am, as well,
Not quite sure about.


Clouds are quieter now,
And sun loosens its grip.
But the current wraps me tight,
As I'm being carried away.
Then an old picture comes to mind,
Us on that bus,
Reading poems I stretched out,
Words about us,
And how I'm terrified,
By the reality of Time and Age.
It reminded me of a song,
And you of a book.
You said that I'm still young.
I laughed mockingly,
And played along.
Said : yeah, whatever.
It's June after all,
My youthful locks remain combed,
Unwashed by the November Rain.


The current is now,
Taking me to less pleasing places.
and it's another old picture,
That breaks its way into my mind.
The sight of your,
Immaculate tears,
Sliding down your face,
Born by my wrongs,
A sight I couldn't bear.
But I do have a selfish wish,
That after it's all done,
The scraps I wrote,
Would keep you company.
The sound of my prayer,
Barely stirs the current.
May those scraps bear testament,
That I have condemned myself.

Once I wondered,
What is it like to know somewhere,
Other than this dark place.
And pondered :
What if life could shift its axis?
Finding myself up there,
Among the fog and clouds.
In a different air.
Where The Winter Wind,
Would blow and blow my hair.
What a scene!
Not as pleasing,
As the one of 1818.
But good enough,
Given what I've so far seen.
No stick will grace my right hand,
And I'll stand naked,
The wind upon my bare skin,
No thoughts out, no thoughts in,
Just me, the clouds, and the scene—
Of the highs and lows which through I've been.
But for now,
Let me hum with ʾĀmīn.
Not Amen ,
For the God I belive in,
Is the one and only.

Gravitational waves
Seem to wave all of my flaws away
As I gravitate
Towards the graceful end of the spectrum
I leave my persona amidst the stardust
Henceforth unfolds my consummate actualization

Hello, O Anima
Long time no see
I've Individuated, and enfolded you
You haven't, and can't
Thus will remain within me

Not two decades yet,  
since the sun spat me into its glare,  
and already my head betrays me—  
six black locks, once fierce,  
gone,  
gone gray,  
gray as ash,  
gray as a lie,  
gray as the sigh  
of a self I can’t defy.