Realization comes often
to me and myself
Was I born for the wrong facts of reality!
May be…
But was it also a test
For want of proof – to me,
Or the World I have come into
I have tried – yes
But I feel I’m growing older
Stark realization in me
Does it fade – or
Tighten the tourniquet
Around my neck
Like the sifting of debris
– of hated life
Am I seeking life
beyond the passage of truth and lies
I wake up to cry…
Why me –
I know somewhere in the future
I could save myself
Like the resisting of temptation
I will somehow search for that salvation
– and again blurt on in dreams.

Why God, Why me!
I see the forms of life
Bitter contrast to an earlier phase
I place my soul dependency
On the invisible man
I know feelings, new found
Will carve their niche
As he will decide
Our salutations to our lives!
When I glance out for reforms
Hoping that turmoils seize
or when I think
If wishes were dreams
And dreams were mirrors
Would I still have to look into myself
For realization comes too often
To me
To hide, to burn, to bury the guilt in me
For what it takes is known
Only to me and myself

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