Infidel

All the emotions
I could give words to ,
have somehow dried up with
my infidelity with pauses.
Now ,they come at once,
all too many and
I find myself at loss with
some rough sketches that were
never coloured to poetry.

Thoughts have
left me with some sheets of papyrus
which mock me with criss crosses
that are too blue and too frequent.

So I travel only in winters
To laugh at the naked trees ,
To wink at your rough exterior
And to redeem myself with
companionship of being deprived.

Still , quite unfairly
A cold wind blows
Through the windows
and nudges my notebook
as it strips itself up
from prologue to rest ,
That I had shown dreams to
of being limitless.
But now,
At the verge of perdition
it takes revenge of
of its countability,
baring all.

An epilogue awaits.
and now
So do I .

SoUmY@