I am thinking of writing a poem
Under the ablazed ashes of my burnt hope
Over the lifeless corpse of my freshly died dream
Above the ninth sky's dark blue pasture of gazing angels
In the midst of paradoxical existence of reality amidst final death and rebirth
Like a newly built fine road in the middle of meaningless miles of a barren desert
I am thinking of writing a poem
Once a long time ago, I was dumbfounded by complexity of my intermingled thoughts
Once a long time ago, I lost the way back home
Once I held on to my mother's arm until I shouted and screamed
For the longing of the peace of ignorance gone far away
Lost in the jungle of philosophical contemplation
I am here lost, thinking
I am thinking of writing a poem
For once my life brightened for once it darkened
Who am I ?
When will I meet The God ?
I have millions of questions stored in my tiny pink flesh enclosing my infinite mind
Who ? Where ? From when ? Till when ? And the greatest of all, WHY ?
Until then I am thinking
I am thinking of writing a poem
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