Sitting lonesomely by my window side...... reminiscing my past
Watching cluelessly how many days have passed...... since I felt alive

Oh, these woes I can't outgrow, how can I grow
Lost in my soul's black hole; I can't find home
I've been forever tadpole; I cannot toad

Minds troubling
The thoughts are popping in
Pestering me
The voices creeping in; telling me... pick your pen
You've been silent for long; ... be a man

You're a master of your arts
Let go of the stuffs in your heart
Script out your woes in rhymes

But hey; what should I write about
Is it how I'm bough; with stuffs that I avowed
Or times that I'd bowed to a sect that let me down

Should I write about my misery
The mystery that I've been living-in
Family feuds, trauma and horrifying history
Wounds of the past, I wouldn't try reliving it.

Should I write about my downs and downs
My wrongs that's wronged or downs that's downed
The hurts that's tucked; or the ones cried out

Hunm; thoughts are plenty; but my pens arent penning
Fams and folks; I don't have any

My words are fluffed; but I keep on pencilling it
Too many errors; so I keep on stencilling.

The lines aren't lining; I'm lost in the verse
It's like the earth 'd outline me and shipped me to Mars
****, the weather is harsh
Would I even survive

I feel.... sea-bounded
At this point, the map seems boundless
The compass spinning pointless;  the anchor creaking mindless
Road endless; they can't even found us

But what could I do; all I feel is defeat
Floating apsidal; now that I'm drown in this bridle joint
If only I could; Rewrite this gumming script
Maybe it wouldn't be titled... the saddle point