“The bullshit self o’ mine”

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Bliss I hunt for; contentment I question a lot,
Answers to them, I crave to find,
My mind calls a halt, when, locates no wisdom to retort,
The whole just in vain; amid, no answer, of even the inexact kind

Running aimlessly, got me tired,
I’m conqueror of the entire nothing,
Life, it seems, shall soon have me fired…
I yearn for, I crave not to moan yet sing…
Please! Exhilaration and glee I could carry, if someone can wring.

My past shall my future find in it,
The present invites no question though;
Life crawls by pieces and bit,
It creeps, struggles, moves at a snail’s pace, gathers humiliation, too fast but too slow.

I ask to you, yes YOU, the all-powerful,
What did you give for, if it was to take away??
Left with so many, but not her, not the she, for whom do I drool??
Whom do I talk nonsense and bullshit to, there isn’t she to say.

Even after you, I’ve spent moments with you,
Have had felt you, touched you, kept my promise, took you on a date;
Can’t stand, so I abhor, being disgusted for this to do,
Negotiating & finding the middle ground; in me, compromising is what I hate.
Besides me, whom do I escalate my inside to??

Being misunderstood, a gift from you time after time I’ve received,
Is not like it gives the impression of, mirror must have grown hair grey in sun,
The unforgiving all, it’s a pale world, memories else are going pallid,
Shattered are my days and damaged nights; unlike the necklace I wish, still if you’ve kept o” mine.

Faded rises the sun, still turning dim when goes down,
Screams my soulful eyes, me is the evidence, shines bright the moon beam,
Some trust I had asked for, had you have it shown,
Insomniac nights I now spend, wakeful darkness, yet so full of dreams

Isolation and no company surround me,
I the visitor, I my guest,
Many o’ my virtual pals, but there is no she,
I find out to find, I is the host.

Tight I try, hold the time,
You’ll linger in me, with me; forever and a day, you, I’ll adore,
The times of joy and ecstasy go lost; it’s no fiction, time has ever been sublime.
Empty handed, I’m hit upon and yet again, bliss I hunt for… her kiss I hunt for…

2 Responses to ““The bullshit self o’ mine””

  1. mysoul Says:

    I do wish you found her… if this isnt fiction that is.🙂

  2. Viral Trivedi Says:

    Thanks for those words, mysoul!


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