Morning chirps mock the muddled mind
Too many whys and unresponsive echoes
Lonely dawns and lost dusks
Change changes nothing.
Pine spines cover the terrain in rust
Rocks peep from behind the trees
Road twists every fifteen metres
Mould settles in every crevice
Trees ambush the trails
Toes and peaks talk
River disappears
*
Playing peek-a-boo on dividerless ways
Giving right of way to defence trucks
Chasing tail lights
Approaching the pale bare horizon.
That city seems desolate
Just worms there.
And the cruel lit up sky.
Relentless. Sleepless.
There’s no one waiting.
With parallel dimensions lost
and effort becoming isolated.
Highways lead nowhere.
I have become less of me.