Alone. Waiting to be embraced. Yet gleeful, content.
Gazing out to the odd world, smirking at the perfected presence.
Feeling alien. Tired. Instead, found peace looking inside.
Days fly in a blur, nights are lulled by silent sighs.
Wrapped in that cacophony are memories of glorious past.

Seeking free spirited akin souls, you smile at your feeble quest.
Looking deep in the shadows, you unearth an isle of decadence.
Striding ahead, a voice calls you back. You wish it dies soon.
Slowing your steps, breaking the enchantment, you retreat.
As all you can trust is the voice inside you.

Gated solitude feels beautiful. Eerily calm but you couldn’t be elsewhere.
Whiff of romance hanging in the breeze.
Can’t help but ponder upon the lust of the lost cause.
Something’s amiss, yet the flawed you scream perfection.
Alone. Waiting to be embraced. Yet gleeful, content.

By Pooja Chauhan