A part of me which was ether
Escaped into space to look down upon myself...
Draped in shawl and sweaters, it saw me bleeding on crumpled sheets of paper,
Staring vacantly to an invisible horizon, where words became waves and emotions -a deep swirling ocean
It saw me smile... It saw me cry...It saw me being another... It saw me being me...
As I carved letters with ink in the hope of calming a storm inside me that seemed otherworldly...
My ethereal self understood tis the time, the aesthetic moment that appears in the life of every poet,
That harbours the essence of their lives
A moment so fleeting to be captured on camera... A moment so tenderly fragile...
So my vapoury self remembered unto it's memory it's own writing self...
And slowly returned back to me
So, this is how I remember my state... This is what I finally wrote unto paper...
The description of my candid moment!

A brief sense of history takes over my olfactory lobes
Sniffing, I smell ancient burnt bricks and lime mortar
My hands reach for the uneven floor piled with ages of dust and the ragged walls portraying a dull grey...
Reminiscent of the times lost and stabbed by cruel hands of destiny...
Pieces of carvings of flowers and animals lay scattered on the frozen grounds
An eerie stillness presides over them causing my heart to tremble in an unknown sorrow...
Statues, full and broken seem to lay all over as if knocked out by the ravages of time...
Time...
What enigma is this time? Like a vain ruler, it rules over the ruin...unaffected by the lost happiness of this once glorious kingdom...
Darkness is the new king and silence the queen
That reigns terror in this empty palace day and night
Roots seem to have penetrated into its giant stone of a heart...
And wild birds have found a shelter in its once forbidden chambers...

I wander aimlessly pondering over the sights I see...

The full moon shines on my face through a crack in the roof...
As if wondering about the purpose of my visit into this empty land
I remain silent feeling the chill of mystery that surrounds my soul...
I suddenly realise that I feel solace in this vacancy... That same vacancy tries to reign over my heart... shredding it into pieces...
Maybe that is why I can so much sympathise with this non living entity...
It is as if my mind and the mind of this ancient structure are one and the same...
We seem to connect to each other, like old lost friends...
For who better can understand the essence of a ruin other than the one whose life feels like a ruin...

Tired I lay over it's bare ground feeling the memories of the days gone by...The ringing laughters,the shedded tears ,the spilled secrets and the peace lost forever...

Time passed over on the wings of a bat...
And finally an ancient sleep took over...!

An unconventional fear takes over my heart
As I think about growing old...
They say nothing is more powerful than the death
All the discomposure drifts away.
And it's as calm as a
quill felling from above.

But the fact that
A day when my voice won't echo in my room
A day when my books and diaries would be abandoned
A day when me and my family won't be together
A day when I won't exist...
scares me.

I begin to knit myself in the wool of promises
Promises of a life...valuable
But then...I see people around me
Whether old or young, who met death like lost friends
And there again...I am left in a dilemma.

Is there a promise for tomorrow?