My toes are always burdened,
the mirage of my own existence
hides with way I walk.

No, bright sun or cool breezes,
warm flames or chilling silences
can refill my chalice of purpose.

I have to keep drinking myself
till I am empty enough to flow,

There is no taste for longing,
Its just a weather my tongue never forgets.

We are all pieces of unfinished monologues,
laughing miserably with a blindfold,
remembering a perfect sleep.

– Shashank Bhardwaj