Predictably unpredictable is my fickle mind,
It always gets beguiled as to be so blind,
Believes the faces and not the souls behind,
Even after leaving sixty plus years behind!!!
It is always in a state of confusion,
Jumping frequently in to wrong conclusion,
Sans purpose, it changes direction,
Then regrets on its wrong selection.
Restlessly searching for mirages in its wander,
Confused at the crossroads of diverging future,
Carrying the load of boundless desires,
It does not know what the soul aspires.
In the dreary haze of remote possibilities,
Feeling the wrench of harsh realities,
My mind consoles itself at its own imbecilities,
Always blaming the outside entities.
I hear the tickle of my mind as it murmurs in ear,
I dance to its tune and sacrifice my sagacity here,
The soul’s serene music is impossible for me to hear,
The fickleness of mind is that we all have to fear.