Instinct

Myriad shades of life…
For most, a day, a struggle
For many, a slumber, for some, an extravaganza…
The lanes of hearts shows no signs
All concealed,
Mankind marches…
Minds differ!

Those green days of childhood
Refusing to fade away,
Poses soothing reminiscences…
Hackneyed in mundane morbidity
todays and tomorrows
Nudges the inner self…
Like nocturnal owls.

The journey breathes,
With hopes and aspirations
Revolves around just the miniscule self.
Shrouded in mysteries
Not willing to unravel,
Lives retard….
Bounded in follies
Selfishness reigns!

We stay,
the way we are.
Utter inhibitions!

The door remains closed.
Few try to open it,
Shed some light unto, but
Blindfolded
Self guises awake!

The distance brings no closeness
Yet the journey never stops!