Temporary Identity

When I'm not me,
When I'm somebody,
Wandering in the skies,
Nostalgically.

Clearing the heavens,
Selecting the stars,
For the sole reason of,
Absolute nullity.

Walking with some,
Talking with others,
With complete absence of,
Insignificant personality.

No hopes, no dreams,
As state of mind of,
No assiduity,
Speaking the words,
Mutely.

Disturbance is never a cause,
It is the consequence of the
cognitive process to barricade attention.
Speaking figuratively.

So how do you define the feel, when
Hundreds of leaves of the Maple trees
lined up in the fall, on the street.
The state of mind, unconsciously.

A great art makes you think,
Supposedly.
Trying to make your eyes blink,
Obnoxiously.

No reiterate, no repetition,
No retelling of once told old story,
After all, it's all chaos around,
Starting randomly, ending bizarrely.

And there it lies,
At the brink of pattern
which follows all through randomness.
Creating cosmos, creating certainty.

So this is the irony:
Incongruity between what might be
expected and what occurs actually.
Reshaping the past, ironically.

Making of reality unexpectedly,
but nothing is likely, satirically.
With no cherry on top,
brings you despair, happily.

The sudden realization, deplorably,
The instant loss of intellect, woefully.
The closure of eyes, epical regretfully,
When I'm me, not somebody.

Obscurities

Here I stand, staring blankly,
At your pleasant world,
At your delightful cities,
Of which I thank the gods grandly,
For creating a world,
Without Obscurities.

I don't see a diminishing light
waving towards me from horizon each day,
I don't hear any swash of tides
singing a melancholy to me and my dismay.

I don't see the love in the air
or the blooming of cherry blossoms in spring,
I could just hear a boisterous blare
when the angels from heavens sing.

I couldn't perceive the call of the wild
or a silent whisper in my ear;
Though I stand in a gloomy night,
Nothing grips me, let alone fear.

How can I embrace the light?
When darkness is my only past,
When I've been vague all my life,
How in this lucidity can I last?

Behind, creepy shadows lie,
In front, a world that has gone dim;
Below, a dying hollow earth,
Above, a sky that is gray and grim.

I'm not a riddle, not a conundrum,
Not full of sureties;
All I am is an insignificant, nameless
speck of my own obscurities.