Dusting Off My Gray
Dusting Off My Gray


Suddenly.
A nightmare. A dream.
Took me to a step.
I freeze.
Curbing yet curing. I don’t know where I live.
Every instant changing my range from being pawn to minister.
I jump. I yell.
I realise that these are the only creatures. I’m afraid.
A positive in a sense.
Destructive the other.
I ask for where do I lie without indulging in any more pressure.
I lie for every new lie and think for the reality.
I cry.
And today the cry of ocean has got me a plank to travel.
To explore, new versions.
To find an answer, a diplomat one.
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And in search of a person painted in similar shade to me.
Neither deep nor shallow but a perfect fellow.
From dusk to dawn,
I keep this process on.
Wandering on open grass.
A step towards a brittle glass.
Peeping. Cherishing. Shaping. Realizing.
Realising all are same but different in a way,
Variation of just tints and shades.
All blended in gray but separated by each gray.
The process is still on.
But now I play a role of heads for one and tails for another.
But still I land on the same plane. Indulging more and more in the quagmire of an answer.
For which I decide not to see, not to trust but let’s keep the life’s lust.