Servile Bands

You’re the mechanical time of my soul—

Unyielding, constant and rigid,

moving back and forth w.r.t my breathing rate.

As I inhale all the colossal joys of the world,

you go forth and ask me to inhale more.

As I exhale the scorching hate out of me,

you make me realize:

hatred is an undelivered parcel of life.

It stays with us till our departing date

by completing all the connotations of love

on mingling.

Now, I wonder about the state of hatred

before and after our departure.

I look up to you;

you let me peek through the depth of my soul.

The inconspicuous components of my wandering soul

bogs down at a single point.

I feel as if I’ve the answers of all my questions.

I let my subliminal thoughts be a threshold for my questions.

They spread their wings,

sipping the joys of freedom

from the rogues of cluttered mind.

Crest-fallen thoughts are now set free from captivity.

Their sighs and groans reveal the secrets of immortality.

Now, soul is all ears;

body incarcerates fears.

Silence and darkness echoing the thoughts and I hear:

After our departure, it just gets embedded

under the layers of our wrecked body

but, it doesn’t end.

It strives hard to relish the quintessence of vitality

and succeeds.

Now, it is free to be delivered at any place in the world.

It chooses Earth—

an epitome of vitality to stay.

Since then, we’re the captive of hatred beckoning love.


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