Poetry

I allowed you to tread on me unflinchingly.
My mind on pause,
ungrieved you turn back the clock.
Enough to stun the century,
I take cognisance of divine’s club foot.

I did not believe in self-pity
but I was racing against time
to avoid a jealous path running with me.
Yet I was sleeping on bushes of estranged thorns
without locking my golden age.

Tulips are no more my favourites.
You have to dig deep to plant the bulbs
and wait. When death opens the door for me,
I wanted to be free from any commitment
and ready to walk in, like a foot soldier.

This cosmos is mine, body is for you.
It no more obeys my command.
No more commas are needed,
a final full stop will do.
I am returning back to my home.