These fingers, they once unfurled like the wings of a free bird
Like a victorious wave that dived and soared to its nemesis, my tips
The rhythm of a harmonium would wait in line to be heard
As these fingers ignored the skeleton’s stricture, and its hiss.
These eyes, they once rolled to the heavens like a biased dice
Creating ripples in the hearts of those who were too silly to care
They took to stage as an enchantress determined to entice
And left before the applause to stare elsewhere.
These hands, they could once revere, in unison the lifeless deity,
Demanding good riddance for its act as the ingenious impostor.
Sometimes it was an anklet adorning a stubborn red artery,
Sometimes a mirror that caressed and fed the vanity of a prankster.
In retrospect the whole that is - I - seems to be possessed not pristine,
Forced to give up its flirtations for the greater good of the machine.
its sad that u could not find anyone who could transcend the veil of his n ur I (ego) n kiss ur soul.