Farewell

only sixteen years of a salty age

precisely a lifelong of suffering

blossomed a misery stricken old woman

from within and beyond,

who refused to change--

for anyone and everyone.

and sometimes, the hare decides to dig

up his burrow, himself

just as mastering the art of dressing fresh cuts

and all along the unreasonable celebrations,

faking smiles and making up stories

came naturally,

like mother’s warmth and lover’s affection.

It’s pretty strange how

merely few years are enough

to taste the bliss of ignorance

and the bittersweet tang of deceiving lies

because as I grew older

every day and every minute,

all I saw was this realization going firm

the truth turning shattering

and perspectives, going concrete than ever 

thunder and breeze

pain and gain

melodrama and solitude 

passion and pity parties,

I understood it better

how oppression was nature

and judging was only a sign of life

hating was being human

rejection was a stepping stone

and I learned it well.

there is so much more to life

than all we choose to hold to

and there is considerable substantiality  

in dreaming with eyes open

and preferring emotionality over intellectuality

questioning nature

and rejecting eternity, murdering mortality 

in losing hope, in hope

and chasing the contradictions.

I wouldn’t find a finer example

of self-lessoning

on what's right and wrong

on swallowing the naïve wild,

while on the road to self destruction for too long,

following the blood trails--only to realize it was mine all along

and calming the fierce storms,

of locking all demons inside,

and building my walls up--

high enough, to keep everybody out.

this serves as an epilogue 

to the phase of my years in teen

and bidding farewell

to what they call sweet sixteen,

where one half was wrapped 

within impetuous bright burst

and another, sighed out

as one prolonged apathetic smolder.