Hammers in the woods

Amidst the deep green woods,

A sound hammers the minds,

A sound that quietness owns,

A sound that only the mystic knows.

The lonely vagabond treads through,

The sound of his footsteps lurking behind,

The pine trees screeching with rhythmic moves,

The night sky echoes to it.

The bat's eyes glow to meet the raven's,

Those nocturnal creatures are the night's lamp,

A firefly flashes through as a meteor in the black,

Another follows with the passion of a lover to meet his beloved.

The lonely traveller looks at the star studded sky,

Remembers his days ,far and lost in the crowd,

He seeks his presence in the dark amidst silence,

The loudness of silence seems more than ever.

You know the woods when dark and deep,

They have an appeal either worst or best,

They can either scare you to death,

Or, gift you a yourself that you never knew.

A night in the woods is not to sleep,

A night in the woods is not to rest,

A night in the woods is to awaken the 'you',

A night in the woods is utterly restless.

The beast in you knocks the doors,

You know its real, you know its wild,

Yet you let it out because there is no light to show it to the world.

As the half moon lights up the night sky,

The wolf howls and makes it more ominous.

You meet your naked soul face to face and meet the devil in you,

The one you had long hidden from society,

The one perhaps you had covered and masked.

The cold air brushes through your dry skin,

You fear the 'you', you just have met,

You try to run away but alas! the shadow follows, 

And once you are bereft of any breath, you stop running.

You face it and its real,

And once you face it with courage, the goodness in you appear,

The virtuous you shields you from the other 'you',

A battle ensues between the two!

You know that's tough, being both you at once,

One that is hideous and devoured by darkness,

Other which glows with virtues and is the light's beloved.

And then you realize the real you after loads of wrestling and bloodshed in mind.

The real winner is not white neither black,

It's the grey, the you with good and bad.

The woods sleep through this,

The squirrel in the wood watches all and buries the secrets in a deep furrow,

The night and the woods being the only witness to the real 'you' and its unfurling.

As its time for the sunrise, the clouds pass by,

You know it's time to gather yourself together.

You know it's time to bid the woods goodbye,

You know it's time for the newborn to walk into the crowds.

A new dawn pours light to the dark, 

You are already awake with the new 'you',

You know yourself more than the previous dawn,

And with all these wisdom, a solo traveller leaves the woods,

No more 'lonely' even if 'alone'.