Loving red
Loosing my purple
It doesn't enchant me anymore
It doesn't dress my eyes perfectly
I'm riding a tale
Yes , ironical
And finding my words in some other poems
By some anonymous authors
I'm short of worthy words
I'm short of my space
And my lovely time
Short of everything that brimmed contentment
I breathe in an unusual chaos
Comes a time , things are inevitable
I need to loose some ends
To find a rotten side of me
One that can mould and survive through
This rotten time
Closing my eyes wont help much
There is vision urging to get completed
There are dreams to get real
Vivid and weird , personally cared and cured
As I watch people come back
And few go out of sight
I sit , words are cluttered
Awaiting to align themselves, late, this December
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