everything feels like yesterday,
even now doesn't seem the same,
tomorrow's an illusion ,
I don't know what to say,
looking for some meaning
in the 'tombstone blues',
atleast highway 61's a real cement,
wondering what it is to be
a 'rolling stone',
is it all adventures or
chasing for a survival cause,
are all the dreams lost or
a star is born,
does it all start to make sense or
adds to more complicated crossroads,
lesser secrets to reveal or
more to hide,
there's always a meaning behind,
shadows or empty lines
just like fake smiles,
the answer is in the find,
in the mind,
for the one who hunts,
gets the hook,
rest all buy the exposed book,
digging own reflection in
character of else,
the original tale however
never gets a stage to tell,
inquiring to mornings about sunsets,
if former is extinct,
instant is endangered,
latter is mockery, then
where do I exist?
meaning, sense and logic,
more stars, little the dark,
just a song, just a moment,
just a thought,
skeptically driving my wheel to
somewhere nowhere but again,
the answer is in the find
and even meaningless
has a room in thesaurus.
© Pragati Jain