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