staring at the ceiling
hours stop
how blank a wall can be
monotony of a whirring fan
let me lend a story
of angst and agony
of a breached contract
by staying alive
enduring
why?
is there anything left to do?
apart from the rut
meaningless
they say your sufferings are
attached to the body
the soul is free of pain
you are the soul
the brahman
i breathe in deep
i wish to feel the soul
none
is it dead?
the body whines
listen to me...heal me
i give in
Shared with Poets And Storytellers United
