The Chosen Loneliness

There is nothing out there as entertaining anymore other than the typical crowd

A great synchronized movement, inaudible cacophony that riles up the senses

Lenses of vision are scratched and a blurry hope, the hype of artificial lightings to alter the mood

Everything around is so hallucinating, mere presence without prescience, false euphoric moments

Lonelier tiring days amongst the crowded spaces, as if fighting for an identity, enough crises

Identical mannerisms with ideological adherents, a separate growth of dormancy

Like a wave of poignancy over fighting for little spaces to express disillusionment

-Amitav Chowdhury

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