Living, Not Existing!
I open my door- So mechanistically that my hands, Do not feel the keys anymore. I step into a house filled- With darkness so deep that you, Feel like you are in a black hole. I drop everything I have- Lay inanimately on bed that makes me; Question - Am I living (or) existing? I close my eyes, for respite, To fill my mind with you - Restless soul feels revived, A light lingers in my black hole. Fingers starts to feel your fist, While my eyes yearns for yours, A sea of tranquility drowns me- As your face and shadow fall on me, Feeling it I smile after quite a while - Though you’re afar many a mile. In these turbulent times of quarantine, My thoughts of you are umpteen, Because, I feel like you are the key- That opens the door to living, and not existing. Love, Ram