It can be something, that I know,
it can be something that I remember.
For ages and for years, it's remain hidden.
So, how can I? Now? I can't do it.
Telling it would mean a revealing,
not doing it, would **** me.
How can I be so sure of that?
Tell me, I want to know!
How can I be at risk of my own,
when I am the sole saviour of myself?
The self is an illusion,
and existence can't be a guarantee.
To be or not to be, is a thought.
It can only be a keyhole.
The keyhole of my world,
to that one, of it.
This is merely a question for me.
But the answer would bring havoc to all.
I can't be so sure, if only I can be,
myself and reveal my inside to it.
It is that one thing that I shall be fearing,
and now making me die a little, inch by inch.
Existence was never a guarantee here,
so I am going without delivering an answer.
It would atleast, not make the rest suffer.
I am now the gateway, to that world.
It's coming right in front  of me.
The keyhole was never a doubt.
It's the world that I had not seen before.
It's the escaping, that I meant to have.

I am a blind man, figuring out this place, a chaos.
So I have told you initially.ok.

Crowded with the utmost fools, to the greatest beings.

From the cunning eyes to the melting hearts.

I am a blind man, so i am taking off, on a walk of discovery.

The past was unknown, and now, the future is a mystery.

Things that I have longed for in the most desperate times,

are there all around, not for me, but far away, 

having an unreachable shine. 

The fake laughs, the unbearable tears just to pull up the sympathy.

The rhetoric webs of the religious nobles, they just can't leave you alone, right?

Apart from being an individual, I am forced to be everything, but a pure human.

In morning a Hindu,
By night it turns into a muslim!

A screamer for nonsense.
Or a debater oozing just garbage.

No. This can't be the real life. These things.

They are not for me; just tease me, with a greedy smile.

A different world.

What a fool am I. Actually yes.

Because, I am a blind man. Not due to my lack of senses,

but since I was looking for the undeserving.

All these years went like a wasting, decaying dead figure.

What an idiot I was, in making a late choice.

It was never about the shine.

It's just a little spark of the ray, that you need.

Not a bag full of over joyful, screaming surprises,

but just a little slice from life.

I 'was' a blind man, doing all this, before the walk.

Not anymore, not now, never and ever.

For i know what i want.

Nothing.

Just a slice of life.

Sadly, it's with me anymore.
Call me, if you find it.