The Wanderer

The blindfolded warrior wanders
Into the depths of despair
Farther and farthest unbeknown
Lost into the darkest tangled forest
Infested with slimy slithering
Knotted bumps of rocky bushes
And amidst the echo of scathing menace
Drowns his moaning fears..
Wanders the warrior.

Alone...and lost-until
The streaming sense of rays
Bathes the darkness in intermittent flashes
Able hands unbinds the blindfold
Revealing the reveling luscious path
Winding amongst the darkness
Illuminated by the dancing rays
Wanders the warrior back.

John Donne's Compass

Moments, minutes, hours and days
Gliding unfathomably away...
Looking so deeply with unseeing eyes
Into the acute distance...
Thinking of the 'compass and gold to airy thinness beat'
Intense bursts of momentary loneliness
Humming amidst the daily conundrum-
Fills this void with a deafening silence.
The temporary void feels like a chasm.
John Donne's lines ring in the distant bell
Rest assured compass.
Hold on tight hinge.
'The leg that travels far, makes a full circle
And returns to the base'. 

Finding Home

Toggling between hope and reality
Tossed around in relentless waves
Surviving in moments, losing them-
Yet another loss and yet another...

Compressed despair of a vagabond warrior
Desperately depleted of life's purpose
Wanders in hazy circles
In a hamsters wheel or so he thinks.

Beyond, just beyond the hamster wheel
Beckons the purpose.
Look. Walkaway. Live your life.
Toss the despair. Ride the waves. Smile at the sun. Find your home.