|[______ No Applauses ______]|

Freestyle, I just go on with the rhymes I have in my brain, thank God for my Mercurial Energy and ability to communicate my thoughts and yet at times I fail. But I love me for being imperfect.

I ain't a poet,
well a great one I ain't,
sometimes I overdo it,
at others I have nothing to say.

Humble and honest,
I seek no fame,
my writings are merely
jotted chains
of thoughts in my brain,

the words come floating,
at times they self arrange
and I follow the process
filling the empty spaces
on the blank page...

in this puzzle of expression,
the direction is vague,
the meaning
gets lost in the rhythm
somewhere along the way,

ahead of me is foggy,
I search for the key,
to finding the solution
to the equation of me,

verbalizing this chaos,
I fail to portray,
in a meaningful manner,
to the point and straight.

instead I go on blindly
with ambitions and dreams
yearning for the brightness
in this tunnel of fears,

labyrinth of questions
but the answers escaped
somewhere through the portal
of missed opportunities.

and I want no applauses
for unwritten screenplay,
as I am yet to discover
the title and text...
this surface just mirrors,
the lights and the shades,
but is opaque and eclipses
the constellation
of creative energy
what lies beneath the layers
still remains a mystery.