Poetry
Callow Wanderings
Real Emotions and Inner Turmoil
This one is close to my heart, which I wrote as a note and kept in Google Keep.
Sometimes, I feel like I should leave everything. And shift to the mountains. Where there is serenity, And only me and my body.
I am too callow to fit. In this world’s order That draws a thin line. Between reality and expectations And a never-ending life cycle.
There is no repose but calamity. The world is flowing in gushes. of avarice, beauty, and opulence, Leaving little room for verity, Donning the hats of fascism.
Like birds nesting and nestling In the hub of lush greenery, Freely flying above the cliffs, I also want to be one. Getting immersed in nature.
The materialistic world and prestige It is not made for me. I am not interested in Stepping into a world That follows everything blindly.
I feel heavy and burdened. By most of these things, As if they are trying to eat me. And snatch what I’ve already By pushing me into the netherworld.
There’s lots to say. There is a lot to unveil. Sometimes, I feel misplaced. And not myself, As if I am trying to Fit in a skin that is not made for me.
Chained to the shackles of Vague spans and nameless terms I desire to give up one day. And merge in this soil, Leaving my soul behind.
For one day, I wish to Release all my sins, good or bad. And wholly and finally lay In the land where I was born And die peacefully with zero guilt.