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THE MELT DOWN

The towering mountains and the rippling sea,

Obstruct my views, but huddles me round;

As stumbling blocks, no doubt they stand;

And curtains my free, flowing thoughts.

Perched on top, of this mist wrapped valley;

My mind sinks down into unfathomable depths;

The mist goes up and the rivulets run down,

But my eyes keep probing the far flung lands.

No food for thought, my mind just finds,

However I try, my mind goes dry;

It’s so scorched, and parched since then;

‘Coz, the demolition has made me still.

Devoid of thoughts, my mind still probes; but

The perennial imagination is still at large!

The bankruptcy of thoughts is a huddle to spell;

As the melancholic thoughts, keep haunting me.

The resolution to break, such rigid shackles,

Gains no motion, but remains as a meek notion;

It dilutes my imagination and makes me rumble,

And melts me down as a novice at heart!

As my pre-conceived thoughts drift apart,

I’m distanced from my esthetic sense;

I feel as if, I am out of sorts; ‘Coz,

The melt down has gone, to the core of heart!