As I turn the empty pages
Of my mental landscape
Clouded aspirations, sunny spots,
Starry dots, shadowy stars,
Descend, on white papers.

Day and night overlapping,
Dark and light overshadowing,
Each other.
Multiple angles and bends,
Show the same object differently.

A sense of self,
And one’s identity,
With pointed fingers.
Amidst the daily circularity,
And ruffled repetitiveness,
I strive to be
Carefree and independent.

There’s a possibility of visibility and clarity,
In a dark background,
And darker times.
Undeniable dependencies,
And heavy responsibilities,
Lead to confinement of vision,
Beyond observation.

The arrow of judgments exchanged,
And circulated.
There’s transition,
And gradual turning of the pages.
Every sight is just a segment of the bigger picture,
Completely different from its counterpart.
Merging and emerging,
Into an infinity of nothingness.