[ poem  ]

The clouds becoming ‘dark’ from white-
a mellow journey turned into a rage;
full of anguish-the storms and lightning.
What’s left is a bare contemplation,
for what it may take, and what will remain.

The turmoils of pretending are visible.
As the wind has left us all naked
we see each other-our vulnerabilities;
now shall we put an effort to feel them too?
Somebody asked.

We knew ‘nicer things’ were just another “cup of tea.”
And these subtle delusions were what makes a life.
With no intentions to pry into someone’s emotions
we thought it was okay to ask for whatever we like.

But, the clouds were becoming ‘dark’ from white.
A mellow journey was subtly turning into a rage.
Full of anguish, with the storms and lightning;
and what was left there, a bare contemplation-
for what it might take, and what would remain.