From the Struggle

The tranquil decay, the thinly stretched patience and its frail pulsation

Compulsions of not speaking convincingly for those clandestine concerns

Unearthed from time to time- the fossils, artefacts, ancient woes of life

Away from that time, but it inches towards this existence- eternity exists

Universe’s spirit breathes through unfathomable epochs; reality is continuous

Split into wisdom and travails of imposed reality; a persistent struggle

Voices are drowned, for those who speak from the other world 

Eyes do not have a choice to see with freedom, and senses are being coerced

Wise purpose deemed to be useless while pensive souls still hear the pleas

Of drowned voices from depths of existence; still, the chaotic distractions prevail

Without asking the self, erasing the selfishness, about the timeless misdeeds

Passive walls of discontent seem to crumble when mind decides to free itself


5 thoughts on “From the Struggle

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