Humans are the vivid books, the wide world’s a shelf. Collecting highs-n-lows in minute nooks As a cloud, we wander all by ourself. Floating over hills and valleys, Rushing through turvy alleys, For life has become a blissful solitude With deep self-introspection on higher magnitude In the hope of leaving chaos behind When all at once I see a crowd lined Beneath the trees, Beside the lakes Between the lines, below the breaks Along the margin of a bay, Continuous like the stars twinkle on the Milky Way There’s a plethora of thoughts Sweet, sour, empty, fulfilling, Thoughts over sipping coffee pot Flashing on us from various spots. Thoughts are like glaring buyers in the market Unfeasible to be bound in ending brackets.