How often do you cleanse — the thought clogs?
These drenched ruts have rusted:
Their channels completely drained
Waned of the wilful strength and abilities,
lost wits, forgotten thrills missed–use
clogged thoughts; trodden–pleasures
At times am thoughtlessly thoughtful
Never waking with a full brain; fooled
To gather its thousand scattered bits
In the fast fading hours of the day
Perhaps I delayed with this futile search
Of a pure flow with a clear cleanse.
Desperately, am now forced to scrape
Painfully washing away silts and scales
Toughened by memories that haunted
Now but an empty shell, ego taunted
Soothed to forget, lulled to bare
Lied to believe barren truths
— These silly brains of mine.
Image courtesy: Poetry Wall.