CRYPTIC

I sit alone pensive, trying to write a rhyme,
As I sit and wonder about a bygone time,
I try but I can’t put words in a single line,
I am lost as is this life of mine…

I float to a world of my dreams,
Filled with cake trees and chocolate streams,
But it feels empty though serene,
As if something’s missing that shouldn’t have been…

This universe around me does unrealistically conjure,
Hope, when I feel hopeless for sure,
As I lose interest and everything seems a bore,
My mind is tired, it feels red and sore…

I look up and see the sunshine so golden,
It’s a sight, to forlorn hearts embolden,
Yet somehow I am standing in the rain,
In tranquil, I feel the pain…

I pick my pen and begin to write,
As within me the past, present and future do fight,
It’s an epic battle, and I can’t say who’s right,
I am getting engulfed by the darkness of the night…

All of a sudden, all my friends are here,
Wonder who showed them the way to get there,
All my joys and sorrows they insist and share,
Showering upon me all their care…

In the distance I see a wall,
I can’t tell whether it’s big or small,
Along the horizon it seems to crawl,
With every passing moment, it’s growing tall…

A pair of eyes look at me bemused,
Steadily into one they get fused,
Let not this rhyme leave your mind battered and bruised,
Stop seeking clarity, when this life is so confused…

This isn’t a rhyme that puts across a thought,
It’s the most cryptic work my mind has wrought,
And to a handful might sensibility here have brought,
Ironically it’s to those who had never sought!