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Miseries of a Mediocre Mind

An engineer-to-be trying to find solace and solitude in writing.

melancholia-of-a-mediocre-mind

What is it that I crave for?
Unbeknownst to me,
That which makes me yearn and grieve,
Grieve, till grief itself ceases to exist.

I see a void, I feel a void.
A void whose presence haunts the child in me.
I know not what would fill this void,
To flee from it, I plea.

Overwhelmed I am, by pangs of conscience,
Afraid I am, to sleep.
Engulfed I am, by a strong desire,
That once was buried deep.

I doubt not the sooth, of His plans for me.
But my heart continues to throb.
At times, I hear it's reckless beats,
That are soon accompanied by my wandering thoughts.

Talk about tears - I've shed them all,
Talk about dreams - I've burned them all,
Talk about lies - I've heard them all.
Yet, I continue to live.


My moist eyes conceal a story,
My happy smile is a fallacy.
A strange bond I share, with this agony too,
That a day devoid of despair, now seems absurd.

© 2020 Priya Dinesh

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