A RECLUSE, MOST OBSERVANT AND ABSORBENT.

Staring in to endless emptiness,

Savoring bitter- sweet hours of loneliness,

Is this night meant for torture?

As I lie, bound in nostalgia's capture.

I slide fast backwards in time's fast flow,

In the puddle of past, looked for love's glow,

Wall calender gets thinner with passing days, I tear a sheet as sun comes out to gaze.

I look for no possibilities in uncertain future,

Content with realities, past days of rapture,

A recluse, most observant and absorbent,

But a kind of most zealous and fervent.

Reminiscing those days filled with spice,

When everyday meant something nice,

But got lost, drifted too far from the shore,

Now nothing means anything anymore.

POETIC FLAVOURS