Walking down the dusty lane,

With a chain of thoughts

swirling in my memory lane

Gazing at the window panes,

My heart like a prisoner,

Caught in a cobweb,

skimming it's way,

through a cloud of thoughts;

My soul, like a prisoner,

Seeking to shatter,

The chains of notions,

My heart just weaved!

My body like a pantheon,

Oozing it's way,

But my mind? Wicked!

Still in a cloud of musings,

Half musin' about the lives

Lying beyond the panes!

Whining silently about the life,

Lying within the slouchy soul,

That claims to have owned me for so long!

All the fragments intertwined,

Clumsily twisted, flukily lined up and conveniently

remembered.

Though there seems to be one,

That doesn't seem to get along

with the other broken memory bits.

I hear pieces of myself,

Whispering in agony to me,

How there used to be a resolute human in me,

Who was never this ill at ease;

Who cared but never cared what mustn't be cared.

They say, that if born a human,

The memories of your past self lingers in the backyard of

your heart!

No matter how much you try,

It won't wear off unless your heart gets wrenched to shreds.