To you or to me

Life is packing box
Emotions nailed on the board of presuppositions

Nails stick out at odd angles
Catching the fabric that life wraps itself

Fallacy of notions grumbles alive
Realises mistakes of presumed situations.

Misery burrows deep in the cracks
The maliase stretches into the corners.

Ants start chewing the heart out
Nostalgic leftovers on a wooden platter.

Wooden frames hang in repose
Fraying pictures look lost within

Faces stamped on the stricken brownscape
Fading recess or a charming enclave.

In the cuboid, time loops
Trapped in a jungle in existence no more

Mind creeps on parallel grooves
Searching for the end in the box of wood.

The organic shrieks out in mental friction
Firing the emotions hovering at threshold

The tongues of flame leaps within
Sucking up the O2 in the claustrophobic surrounding.

The burnt carbon prods the soul
The ego starts pricking the piece of wood.

Blank lives etched over the wooden face.
The road had lead, but then, it ended too.

Copyright: Anirban Sarkar
Circa: 25th July 1999