Aweary eons are over since, Deepak, thee did demise,
Still, the dreams of union with utopia hover verily precise.
Questions of existence of eerie eons are reverberated,
Aberrations of anamneses, manifestations yet awaited.
My dreams are ramified now, into a million fragments,
Remains rest as recollections of few forlorn figments.
Sky’s saturnine silence sings sepulchral stygian songs…
Waning wishes weep while wind wounds wild wrongs.
Somnolent sights of night yet insomniac spirit shivers,
Still, a sweven for survival, struggling, scared it quivers.
A melancholic medley of memories mesmerizes my mind,
Cimmerian clouds I watch, I’m wretched and resigned.
Life lies amidst truce of trust and despair of doubts,
Beyond the mundane mess of cozy cuddles and clouts.
Paths of life are too long to travel with sere solitude,
Spectrums of souls unravel with spiritual solicitude.
These pieces of poetry aren’t laments of lonesome,
But reflections on life’s, tenebrous truths, loathsome.
To express these experiences in words isn’t so easy,
However, to purge emotions is essential, yet queasy.
Deepak recites remembrance of fallen glories of yore,
Shadows of soothing songs, solace of holy and pure.
But shadows are caliginous, dire dementia of dusk,
Shadows grow, shorten and, vanish in moments brusk.
Cloistered I live now, seclusion follow me everywhere,
Being some breaths I, relish penury of warmth and care.
I resolve to be free from want, freedom from desire,
Liberation through renunciation, I sanctify my pyre.