Restless souls.
Caged in glass cabins,
And sprouting steel rods
Encase brittle skeletons
Writhing upon mute white sheets
Beneath a hostile white sky
White curtains, white tubelights, white aprons, white walls
And gradually whitening eyes.
Have I not seen enough of white now?

Here, where once again
Life hangs in a mesh of wires, transparent tubes, beating monitors.
Where existance is a hoax
Of fluctuating lines, blue and green,
Of limping dreams, unheard, unseen.

Everything is same, only roles are reshuffled.
Replete with frequent woes, of double ailments,
There are moments
Between two suns
When I am lost
In hollowness of being.
Wondering whether
"It is really beautiful to die together"