To myself.

I am at peace now,

no hunger beckoning to take to a different lane,

with temptings of finding the latest dream unbuttoned,

ready to be worn, threadbare.

No promises expected to be returned,

every single swallow has flown back

to warmer skies, no one left behind to confuse

silent tears for dewdrops from the Happy Prince

No targets, remaining to be achieved,

that I would 'do this' if i 'could do that'

And waiting, for life, to take roots in midair.

I hammer away languidly, at the vacancy of stares,

idly thinking of nothing has become easy,

numbness has a presence and a comfort

I knew not I could live with.

Its become easy now, not to lose senses,

at people who do not deserve in the least

morsels of my temper.

Its easier to share, and bring in nameless faces

into the everyday happinesses life packs in.

To make life roll on, at that uninhabited

spherical pace, that I first thought,

would be impossible for me to live with,

a fireball of energy, its actually comforting,

to see the balded sphere roll on by.

Yes, soon enough, through mists and haze

another year has passed by,

revealing enough to show,

the mirror was never too far to see

only that I, in my constant fear

of letting go of myself, could not

gather enough courage, to pick it up.

I scruff up, the last shards of my memories,

of times belonging to another relative

space.

Of nebulous doubts and promises,

of beguiling dreams and voyages

into this solid ground,

beneath my feet, however small I maybe

in this universe, this space,

belongs to me, while I stand on it.

Happy New Year to me.

Never did give up,

not ever shall I.