A    POEM   ON  , WHEN  I  WAS  30 +

This  disheveled   life  glued  or  stitched
has  to  be  brought  to  some  presentable  form
and  then  to sign  .
Yet  some inner  voice  within  laments
'  has  Life  no  other  meaning  in Existence
and  even  death-s  and  sufferings  all  round
won't  leave  any    message !

Or the  sunshine
 even  the  mid-day  burn
will incite   nothing  in   me
with  all   so  much  life  used , wasted
or  left empty  behind
leaving  no  foot - prints    to  tell
any  future  voyaging   life !

Even  the    love-lorn  birds  will  drop down  dead
with  their  fledg(e)ing-s    left  behind

How  far  or  how  long   have  I  to  sail
with  no  beacon light
or  can  any  one   tell me ,-  why   I  strife
or,  what  lies  in  the  end  ?!
__________________________________