On silent nights, in soundless whispers

On silent nights, in soundless whispers

Every passing day seems to have its own surly whim.

Events unfurl, barely stirring my mind;

“Is this what I want?” I end up asking myself,

Though I only see myself confronting Truth’s hind.

Surely somewhere, life scorns at my dilemma.

A change- I feel I am striving for each day.

Petty hassles leach the once unbridled creativity,

And the refined thoughts of before seem at bay.

The commuting tires, the monotony baffles-

The working figures snoring in my eyes.

The sceptical faces at every intersecting crossroad,

Make me ponder over my own manipulated lies.

The lurking emptiness implodes ever so slightly later, every night;

No doings it seems would prove worthwhile.

The virtual world of frivolties I resort to,

Lost I feel, stranded on a solitary isle.

Truly living a fulfilling life- when did the notion evanesce?

It seems compromises make the order of the day.

I wake up each morn; stare at the mirror and sigh,

“And here we go again!”, all my reflection says.

I remember -not so long ago- a simpler time.

And in visions and dreams, it does haunt my mind.

Some things should never change moving forward.

Some things should, for the better, rewind.

On silent nights, in soundless whispers,

Sometimes I hear that simpler past call me.

Sometimes in hues of the setting sun,

The fading colours of life, I am forced to see..