My Bridge.

Am I building a bridge from me to my dreams?

Am I living a life indebted to many?

How long should I wait again to win over my own slowness?

Am I walking slowly or did I ever walk?

Why should I cry when I never responded to my own heart’s call?

Even when people say – “There is a gleam in your eyes…” I find it  hard to be in accord with them. I know; they observe me, very keen.

My heart pound like a boxer's who is waiting to start his final bout to get a result, which would heal his soul wounding his challenger’s self. From here, heart beats faster.

From nowhere, an unknown pain pierces into my veins; I feel sick. I smell death.

I don’t know why my desired roads are closing one by one, even before I walk halfway through it?

I fear.

Still, I’m trying to find my road from the battered roads.

I let my self loose to all strangles happening inside my brain. I hug my uneasiness.

I slip into a deep slumber to my fantasies, where I wedge the gap between my dreams and what my mind craves. I live inside my dreams; at least I live here.

My bridge from me to my dreams is finally connected somehow.

.

Island!

Am I turning into a sleepy island where no vegetation would ever grow? Have been I remained an island of similar sort always? I loved sea –for it carried me and my hopes- I don’t want to be in another shore. Turning to an Island, I want to slowly float among the tides being a muddy ship. No great mariner shall not decide my course-let them scull their own thoughts, let them moor it first- I won’t care yet another un-captained salty mud-ship travelling along me. I would float from blue to deep blue, and other hues of marine blue. Amidst another other thousand islands, I would be the abode of silence until my soil is sedimented to the seabed where seaweeds sprout; seahorses live.
.