Liberating my wanderlust soul into poetry

Once I was a blank paper,

but on a day the pen started

to move on its own

leaving ink on the page,

bleeding out the intoxicated me,

the clearer and clearer it came out,

going so weirdly true and making me shivery at times

Still sometimes the emptiness plugs in,

as from nowhere

then I wish to be a numb,

thoughtless, senseless and purposeless

Maybe I can never go back, still I wish to erase

everything and liberate my wanderlust soul wholly

into a new dimension of cosmos

into a new dimension of poetry, where the anxious me

wouldn’t be existing, where I would be aware of my awareness

where I could hear my name in the whispers of wind

and where I would be in an endless dance loop forever !