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an outcast
is it me, or is it my inherent personality?
humanity has become strange, difficult to understand.
i may too have an insecurity
of these worldly and tragic complexities i have to withstand.
if only one valuable word could be triumphantly said,
such a word that would resurrect my soul from the immortal pain
then i would feel a sense of victory, and my loss thus paid.
whenever the sky roars with fury, i know that something cleansing is to
follow...rain.
i need to be rehabilitated back to my old ways
what was it that forbid me from joining them then?
i have done myself a terrible discursive, and now my heart wails.
it is still hard to trace, to trace what really led me to the den.
i have allowed them to infest their virtues in my territory
they have poisoned my behaviour like rust stains steel.
but now i know, that i will never be part of them, and it feels like an entry
into a cleansed state of mind, at my own free will.
and for all this, I AM AN OUTCAST
a slave to my inordinary past.
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