Self a mirage

Turmoil deep down
Dark clouds lurking
Serene facade hiding
Long sinewy fingers of

Clawing oppressive depression
Stretched thin between
Want and need
Perceived or real
Unrecognized reflection
On blemished mirror
Dancing devils of
Dreamless nights crowding
Eyes shut tight
Tired mornings rolling into
Unrewarding days meandering
Far into distant
Horizons beyond infinity
Walking away from it all
Stigmatized peace probably
Shrugging responsibility hounding
Life miserable
Is self a mirage
From inception
Shaped and sized by
Events beyond control
Selfish is the label
If broken the mold
Mystic Maya engulfs
March to an unknown tune
Deluding consciousness
Claiming control
Of a restless soul
Buddha a story
Fiction long forgotten

Author: pranabaxom

Poetry is my passion. I am not a methodical writer. I have no set topics to write about. What I feel, perceive, think about, I will like to share in this blog. I open my mind to the world. Like the weather, sometimes my poems are cloudy, sometimes stormy. I always like to see sunshine streaming through the leaves of trees, so I hope I can share some of those sunshine with my readers.

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