My atoms have crossed millions of galaxies
They have waited for billions of centuries
But you are ruthless creation
The more I suffer,the more you take decades.
My soul is stranger to those familiar faces
They demand to be my same kind,
Are they pretty at pretending?
Or is it a fashionable custom?
And I’m trapped in vanity box
but scattered in pieces
And the truth, nobody can build me whole.
The constant feel to be a stranger
An enigmatic existence!
Unexplainable doubts chew my brain cautiously.
Their alien sigh whispers in midnight
that I don’t belong here,
I’m lost stranger, unable to process their language.
Just like that trapped word inside an unfolded page,
The intelligent writer who created me
somehow forgot to put me in right book.
Summer evenings in mid July
And I’m shamelessly crazy
for your tropical love,
Will you walk with me
to the city of wild dove?