Incoherence
I knew that the water I saw was a mirage.
Unfathomable depths seemed shallow when measured.
This is a world where facts and fancies camouflage
Within wombs of empty tombs, riches are treasured.
The sketch that looked like a wall was, in truth, a pole.
Beasts that dined on guavas at night weren't crows but bats.
My crammed glance makes the earth resemble a ball
I pause and cut short my tours, confronting black cats.
Peeping through the holes of Qutab Minar, I faint.
Shouldn't I reach the top? Should I simply go back?
With colours of likes and dislikes my walls I paint.
With burdens of pessimism, my corridors crack.
Are these angels I find herein mere illusions?
Are these candours that have been tested, delusions?
Copyright © Christuraj Alex | Year Posted 2025
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