A blissful sadness clouds my head
And a numb freedom is what I dread.
I, here, am in a spontaneous trance
I, here, am waiting for my chance.
Is it I preaching myself ?
Is it I yelling for help ?
What have I to loose or gain,
Is it life, I disdain?
Agile thoughts grace my mind,
Forgotten glories I try to bind.
A blissful sadness clouds my soul,
Trembles up on an unknown knoll,
I, here, am covering my bane,
I, here, am in a continuous pain.
© Zinnia Mitra
Beyond life lies an unfolded Truth,
Lies a cry of untold, unfed and unseen,
Lay a plethora of dimensions.
But what have you seen or felt
Or what has been said?
Amused, whimsical, frantic
All in tiny segments
Creeping, crawling flows into the blood
Like millions of amoeba.
Conscious, unconscious, awake or asleep
Contusion of knowledge, ignorance and discoveries
Pour in ages of discouragement.
What lies beyond, lies afar.
Unseen, unfed and untold,
Thus bringing in darkness and void
And what we forget in time
Is called "the dot”. © Zinnia Mitra
