why would i be chasing a mirage in my own mind
some times you appear brute and some times every kind
why do i sleep so little, and remain inside so tired
is it that only when we are fatigued, our defenses are down
some see me as a saint and to some, i am a clown
why do i lose the sense of my being
why do i lose the sens e of my being
after all, are not you all
pat of my own spirit,
your imperfections are mine own
your arrogance is a reflection of my own
if i did not ket you return
all the ‘i owe yous’
it was n ot because i di dnot want to be compensated
but just that
unredeemed IOUs
might offer more tempting
horizon
to crave for
from the need to remember
you may grow taller than the oak
which had witnessed
your steps along the way
that passed through the
cemetery where
were buried my memories
you do not use that path any longer
you do not have to, you are liberated
from the need to remember
you are free
you can
but see
the red corners of my eyes
not closed for long
why not cover these with your hands
just cover these
for ever
with nothing, any more to see