I feel scared at times
When I look out
Of myself and for myself.
The wind is cold now.
The feet not so warm.
But the night is dark.
I stand at the sideway, looking as I toil along.
The sky is lit with fewer stars than before.
The moon now shy between the clouds.
It drizzles at times and the rain follows.
It thunders before with the light strikes.
The eerie foils now surrounds my routine.
As I do not know what lies outside.
For I have been crawling all along,
to reach for the exit
But while I am at it,
Lesser do I know if my purpose after that would fit.
Have I been institutionalized?
Has my slavery become my bolt hole,
My only escape route?
The more I bring things inside,
the more I care less for the outside.
Not very far that day lies.
When the sea will be blown,
The sky will not be dark
The air will be visible
And my eyes, Ha! The eyes,
Will be veiled virtually against
The nature’s wrath
If you are hiding, be at it,
if you are fighting, very good.
Reality is only our point of view and nothing else.
~Aman
We shall write 