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While My Sewed Soul Journeys through Night

Prateek Joshi

Sown. Simmering. Sauntering.
The dream take to plunge in the outer sphere of my adamantine ennui.
From it I wake with indifference born in my dreamless sleep
For I have had many vacant nights, sleepless, and foregone sight
The valor, vanity has withdrawn in its appeal
In the redressal to the court I have passed through every reel
Like jigsaw must have I given up freedom of having meaning
I have disfigured myself into pieces for dreams to pop in mean 
No sold auction to weigh my dreams - 
they have lived a height.
To draw a caricature I live, at the epicenter of my quaking reaches -
the helm of which breaks into escaping rhythm
The loaned buttressal I skit about
The challaned cheer I hang off in spare
The spade speaks for its jaded lear
And the uttered repel a river in distance
I, eschewed, scurry to drivel off in dribble
The tower of hopes find themselves forwards
My outcome awaits a crystal sky
In it speak the gazer's gaze and eye the ire
White raise of eyes reserves a yolk to swim in
The squirming satires jet a smoke to cleave its marks
I hop on to the collar of the man smoking a bidi off the bicycle
He delivered a mail at my house saying he has seen the end
Leaves letter an unruly apology.
But for the sake of the matter's root/route, they hold back drools.
In the meantime I play into my ink some feathered relish
They seem to hover over the mocking air
For now I know my leads have punned to patient
My words have lead me to prescriptions
My sense sans meaning precipitated a seizure of mind
Without being broken, it seems a boolean favor
I do not see to end myself not like I see now
(I would seize myself and back through my time again)
But it yields a elegy that defines me
While my sewed soul journeys through night

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