Therapy
Somehow my deepest desire,
Is just a walk in the rain,
A break from the monotonous routine,
What has made life so mundane,
Company not a necessity,
Being alone is no longer foreign,
Yesterday history, tomorrow mystery,
Yet present in itself feels jarring,
Persistent bickering,
A constant hunger for a way out,
Happiness surrounding me,
Yet sorrow engulfs like a drought,
Birds chirping,
And the clouds start to clear,
Yet this openness feels more closed,
And darkness is what feels near,
Staying up till 4,
Unhealthy, well aware,
Yet the shrill silence is what I yearn,
A personified sort of prayer,
Embracing the rain,
And under a flickering light I stand,
My purpose, with a constant burn,
Are the answers I demand,
Empty streets,
The seeds of loneliness are sown,
Hearing the rain hit the ground,
Is a therapy of its own,
Wanting to be set free,
Ending up getting wound up even more,
Walk on the Mayfair galore,
Wondering what the universe has in store,
Yet we keep moving,
Rushing to the next after one closed door,
One step at a time,
The entire situation we tend to ignore,
Facing one bull after the other,
We become our own matador,
Fight one round at a time,
Work all the way to the core,
A cynically provoking thought,
Is what this was all about,
A bleating yet covert sound of hope,
What you do with it, that is paramount.
.
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~Hrishikesh
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