The Unconscious
The long, open windings of the dusty road
Seems absurd, like the empty yearnings
Of a parched soul
Which wills to dangle haywire
And be so lackadaisical
Leading to the unseen infinity
In the timeless steps
The egos marching to and fro
Battling by the storms of life
To subside in the zero
Enveloped in the impenetrable ocean of solitude
Where all seems a singular, dark mass of fathomless despair
No beginning, no end
Just a void standstill of the 'I'
That's submerged in the dark glittering darkness.
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