April 16 2016

 

 

The wall of misunderstanding

Made of unnatural concrete bricks

Between two is my sorrow

For, it lasts inexplicably long

Delaying the natural meeting

 

The wall of ancient anger

Made of burnt clay bricks, red,

Plastered and rendered strong

With dark and variant reasons

Between two is my sorrow

For it is too reddish and tall, and

Delays the natural meeting forever

 

The wall of infamous ego

Made of sand grains of pain,

Ashes of dead dreams, and

The stiff “I”, unbending, using

The thought churning process

Between two is my sorrow

For it is too grey and hopeless, and

Delays the natural meeting infinitely

 

Trapped among the walls

The life chokes as if it is locked

Within a labyrinthine eerie castle

Breathing the damp air fetid

Unable to find a way out to fresh air

And I say, loudly than the thunder

“The wall is my sorrow”

“The wall is my sorrow”

“The wall is my sorrow”