I do not wish to wrap myself in a blanket of thoughts that cannot save me from harsh winter

Somehow, woven hastily with tattered thoughts, they weaken the entire fabric of the mind

The inclement weather pulverise the being repeatedly and there’s no defence against the tirades

Everyday harangue with the flawed ideologies cannot stretch the already frail life any further

Let the mind be without ideas and enjoy the nothingness and the wild wandering without any plan

A blanketed world misses the sunshine and fresh winds while perspiring profusely without any toil



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