Who cast an imprecation at me,
The time changed at the hit of the night;
So meretricious it appeared,
I followed it sans questions;
And when I found
The right, The Wrong and then some
I got that I was tired
And not right.

The king and the pawn

I was tired of being myself
With lots of possibilities and confusions:
The dreams and the aims,
The feet and the steps,
So not-in-accord.
So helpless like a ten cross ten matrix,
Attenuated with time gradually,
It seems like a self claimed portrait
Of hopelessness
When I come across the mirror.

Then it happens,
Someone silently approaches
Out of the dark;
Want to hold my hand and walk,
Till sunrise,
And leave me refreshed
Not tired, not dejected.