Incomplete Forever

 

The eve of Sunday moving slowly towards the night.

The Azaan from a distance can be heard as the sound of a passing train.

The mind is in search of a thought that it can muse,–

while, the soul is in the mood of sitting back and enjoy the eve.

There is a serenity, there is quietude, there is this loneliness.

lonely-picture-19

The eve of Sunday moving slowly towards the night.

The chime of temple bell, that jiggles by the devotees, resonate with–

the sound of the gapped traffic. 

The mind is swimming vagabondly, trying to get hold on to a driftwood,–

while, the soul is disturbed by the ripple created by this errant sail through.

There is a calmness, there is solace, there is this solitude.

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The eve of Sunday moving slowly towards the night.

The eve traffic with muffled noise of entertainment from neighbor jiggling in ‘ween.

A lorn feeling taking birth from the blue of mind searching for a companion,

(Taking birth from) the susurration need of the body to get love, to get pampered. 

The soul sits quietly as it denied to float on this driftwood; it’s demand for a cigarette.

There is an anger, there is an arrogance, there is this posit of an incomplete forever…

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Daily Prompt: Jiggle

Poetry Challenge #6 by Tanya (Palpable Pennings)

Sacha Black’s Writespiration#105 52 Weeks in 52 Words Week 9

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