At times my brush fails to streak over right shade, At other times, words fail to rhyme along. I wonder if its the state i find myself in, Or just my inability to juxtapose things...
Who knows what bakes at poets' end Perhaps nostalgia or some longing desires Whether is being followed by melancholy silence or is chasing the ray of hope...
With the endless infinity of the soul; Offered the pause, Searching beyond the illusion of answers, At that moment, Offered a question For which that was the answer itself...