Empty Spots
Empty Spots
We all possess
Some empty spots at heart,
Where all attempts had gone
In vain and wrong.
Just like a tread
Down to a memory lane,
Where everything seems familiar
Yet unknown and strange.
Thus you become
Helpless and strand,
Gawking into limbo
As moments have already passed.
Albeit you get there
You reach to nothing,
Emptiness is the constant
And sighs are rampant.
