An Ode To Self Poem by Diya Guha Roy

Tainted and tired he uttered the holy words
The meanings subdued with the fatigue of mind,
But of others, and not him, of may be of both.
There he stood beside the pool of crimson
And saw the reflection of his heart getting
Squeezed out of every ounce of life force
The grapple devised by fate and the silhouettes
Of the leagues that were wiped out from his life
He wandered alone, the questions inside and
The quizzical looks from others made him realize
That time has slipped through the fingers
He could not find the right path nor the contention
So it is written by him that he will wander till
He finds where the world meets his demand
Or else he has to curtail the untamed mind
To fit into the frame, that the currency can buy.