Not Much To Listen

It is not much I can gather during that curtailed moment

From second-hand narrations, grudgingly trying to sound sane

Listless days… the mornings wake up with a gloominess

Lengthening the night’s mood to influence the day

Opinions that are unverified, walk in, through concealed doors

Non-literary glorifications across those tired pages

Voices read dispassionately- only the alphabets matter

Vacuous emotions sound too haughty to disguise ineptitude

The deceitful stories flow like raging tributaries

Uprooting sensibilities from vast expanses of existence

~Amitav