It’s not me, who shaped it,
This is not my thought,
I did not notice when it occurred to me,
I was not given a choice to choose,
I am as naïve as you
I reject all accusations,
I am not the creator.
Yet,
The fact still stands to escape my conscious reasoning.
Yes my friend It took,
The shape of the shapeless desire’
Covered itself with the red herring views,
It also smelled like the smell less stench,
The size was so gigantic and endless,
That it could only be measured by itself.
Oh my dearest, I am so confused,
Lost in my own erroneous expressions,
Struggling to capture you with my derivations,
Shall I now accept you as answers to all my fears and frustrations?
Letting you, to swallow my huge inhibitions,
Leading me from the dark channels to ever expanding and
illuminating horizons,
Oh god!
What a clear confusion,
Cheating of human perception,
An idealistic illusion of a poetic expression,
Above all,
You are the slave’s only aspiration.
Freedom
My friend, You are such an abstraction!
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