Where every second counts-
Every instance being a revelation,
Where words aren't enough,
Where you just keep with the beat,
Trying to be detached and free.
As the clock ticks by,
As emotions come alive,
As fear tries to revive,
The ghosts of the past
And the demons of the future,
The mind become numb,
With a serendipitous belief.
When the moment is the only thing alive,
When there is no place for lust or pride,
When there is no need for valour or will,
When the innate wakes up and strikes,
The song of the life, revives.
The still emptiness of midnight,
The lonely lights of early morn,
One little sound-
Threatens and then reassures,
That you breath in tandem,
With the mystic night,
Among eerie insects,
And still street lights,
The empty road,
And the spirit of your life.
Into a slumber you fall,
The mind takes you afar-
Far, far into the phantoms
Of times, into the chambers
Of fears and vistas of freedom,
And the jittery world of boredom.
As the conscious lets go,
And sleep envelops,
The images-iridescent,
Opaque, luminescent
And barren monochrome,
Merge into a tableau.
That seed,
Then grows,
And as the waking hours dawn,
Our visage surrender to the
Unknown pains and unfelt pleasures,
The eyes sunken with grief,
The lips craving a smile,
The throat quiet and dry.
Who knows the moment when life is born?
Who knows when a thought was conceived?
Who can choose to choose or refrain?
Who can accept that nothing is in vain?
When all is a blur,
When nothing really hurts,
For the metal knows no wrath,
And rust knows no moisture,
Is all a preconditioned causation?
And at that moment,
When at a junction,
Instinct moves our feet,
One step at a time-
What we choose is revealed.
The moment is born,
And is dead, yet has left
A mark, which forever will be felt.
Life will never be the same again.
The light shines the brightest
