The Paths Tainted

The Paths Tainted

What of the epitome of mind

That wanders miles afar?

The fluids like waves, it hits the brain

It numbs the senses and begins to drain.

The paths grow vague,

I can’t feel my home, I can't find my home

A sheer certainty of rueful pain

Inflicting scars to its ultimate end.

When I start to paint again the vision blurs

Soaking wide, eyes pouring rain

Every lie ever told, every ploy ever mold,

With kneaded pretenses and empty lenses

There’s a fallen canvas with rotten keys

Lost cause, lost is the key

Will u dare to illustrate me?

Riddhi Chakraborty