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 !

words
black
on the page
oh i lack such things
grace
to love you right
I love this. So wonderfully put.
Thanks a lot moushmi..happy new year in advance