Nugatory isn’t any soul
Even the thoughts are introspection,
Even the feelings are sentiments,
Residing inside;
Making a tender shelter to those.
You are never broken.
You are just sporadic and bent;
And even if you are
broken or torn tent
Your contusions, your scars,
And the void spaces in
between
they emit red light which bleeds;
Is a climax to a person inside you.
But dear! Don’t you know!
After red light;
There’s a desolate halt
And then comes yellow,
And then green light.
Making you ready for a
pristine adventure or a flight.
So hold yourself tight
For the venture.
The end you feel is a
beginning, is an inauguration
Like the bug’s end;
Leading to the cycle of a butterfly.