Transparent
All that does not make sense, Not any more now that I know, All that hours of prattle, In the most insane parties, Pretending like I care for all, Showing love to people, Who least deserve it. Why this mask? Why so much strain? I kept asking myself. The answer was evident, But too rigid to pack, Within this small pate of mine, Brain knew what the heart dreaded. We are all scared of being alone. If there is no one for me to love The world ceases to exists. Even worse if a love is lost, For the love transforms, Into this one kind of an fetish phantom. The kind which acts as a horrid gate keeper. I came to know love more divine, This love so pure so unerring, More ambrosia l than the love of God. Mother may love thee, But it is divided and ephemeral , Then what adulation is pristine? The love for self. For years we have been taught to love others, We have even imbibed the love for entit y, But we have forgotten the immutable. As long as my soul is alive