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.
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