Skip to main content

 

Solitude

There’s nothing at all,
just silence surrounding me.

A solitude—in this darkness,
And within it, hidden,
Crouched in the corner, 

In silence deep, I quietly lie.


Far off, a storm brews,
with howling wind—
I shiver in its icy embrace.

The flicker of a lone flame
wavers with each gust,
sending shivers through me.
I think to steady it,
but I haven’t the courage.

No one is here in this house.
Only solitude.
And me, hidden within it.

Echoes of bygone eras
strike hollow walls,
emerging like specters,
vanishing just as swiftly.

I hum softly,
but my voice dissolves
amid the thunder’s roar.

The flame flickers and wanes,
as lightning dances in sight.
For a moment, I glance around,
Scattered belongings in every corner of the house 

once cherished,
now mere relics of sweat and toil.

The storm will gather it all—
The slowly rising water will sweep it away,

any moment from now.


The storm deepens,
shadows lengthen,
until the room,
the flame,
and I—
fade into the emptiness.

The rain shall linger on, 

The clouds will thunder loud, 

The storm will tremble still,

While memories crash upon the shore.

I will remain hidden,
With solitude as my companion.

-----------------------


Comments

Popular posts from this blog

  Notes Toward a Mountain At the sight of distant hills something restless moved within me. I followed a rhythm not named, a private summons beating faintly in the heart. The path turned and returned on itself. At places, marsh. At places, stone and thorn that tore the skin of intention. Yet the summit persisted, reappearing in the mind, insistent. I walked on, inventing the way as I went, ignorant of jackal, scorpion, snake. Now the ascent. No visible track. What had seemed, from a distance, marvellous stood near at hand as brute accumulation, tree and rock without promise. Water spoke everywhere, yet showed itself nowhere. The cries of animals merged with birds, with the thin friction of wind. Let me pause. Let me speak sense to the heart. Why should what appeared miraculous from afar now instruct me in fear? My shadow lengthened beyond me. Perhaps it was already evening. I advanced slowly, breathing the weight of the moment, appealing without words to what surrounded me. Silence...
  Footprints Whenever I look at the sea, a shiver runs through me, a trace of envy rises watching the swelling, spreading waves. The sea scatters its colors along the shore— waves heavy with shells arrive in anger, yet squander their riches on a single pearl or two. One after another, countless, they reach the shore and disappear again. I watch flocks of circling birds— diving at the sight of the waves, catching fish, then rising back into air. Shell or pearl— both are left behind on the sand. I have heard the sea shelters an entirely different world within itself. The water may be salty, yet it is not separate from my world— we are not apart from one another. Moving with the waves, along the edge of the shore, over this sand, I keep walking. I watch my footprints fade beneath the waves— sometimes erased in anger, sometimes as if laughing. -----------------
  Blank Paper With a blank sheet in hand, I try to sketch a picture. Breathing life into it, I watch it vanish, disappearing in the next moment. Smiling, I gaze at its fading form, dancing as smoke, twisting into nothingness. Now I fill the blank pages with whispers of thoughts, echoing in the dark caverns of my mind, only to vanish with the sunrise, leaving behind the blankness— a canvas untouched. They say he roams the desolate desert now, a mirage himself, drawing errant lines— sometimes grass, sometimes clouds, sometimes stars, sometimes lakes. Sketching endlessly, breathing life into fleeting dreams, scattering woven hopes along his path. And yet, always by his side: a blank page and a whirlwind of thoughts. ----------------------------