PRE-OCCUPIED

 That was all you would know,

With the passing of your life,

On a hyper-lapse of memory,

It’s obscurity till you occupy it,

To erase the time of innocence.

From winter to fall,

Till crunching of Brown leaves,

On a ground full of yellow wood.

Other’s being senile of insanity,

You are there with that voice,

For preoccuping the incoherent darkness.

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WHAT ARE YOU AFRAID OF?

 

What are you afraid of?

The man with a broom sweeping the corridor?

Or the guy with a black bag on his one-sided shoulder?

Or even the lady near the corner straight?

 

What are you afraid of?

To swipe down all the memories in one scroll!

Or the dummies you played during your childhood!

Or the money you plunk down through the broker!

LET THEM GO!

 

What are you afraid of?

To lean down the terrace railing?

Or the stairs which round-off at the end?

Or the ending of a suspense movie?

 

Contentment is the seventh heaven!

Depression too come along the way:

Of prosperity, holding hands in desolation;

Craving for the fear of losing!

So why not to get afraid of all this?

 

If ever this are the reasons to go?

Cause we don’t get to do the stupid shits others do,

Let not the fear win over you?

They just get outflanked in a single go?

SO, what are you afraid of now?