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THE MUNDANE

Looking off the window,
Talking to the distant thoughts,
Eyes fixed far in the absence,
As it is has become so everyday,
Like this moment,
As was the other day,
Reminding the windows,
The mundane opens in the life

Looking off the window,
I see the mundane on the go,
I read its presence,
As I did the last day,
As I get it into the moment now,
Telling me the other side of life,
The mundane so naturally builds,
For us to remain us, men of this world



Looking on the window,
Trying having sensed the expanse,
Looking to feel again,
As if I’ve travelled the distance,
To be one with my that ‘Self’,
When the mundane ‘Self’ sounds arguing,
Like it happens sometimes,
Pushing me to look inside the window

Looking on the window,
I dig down deeper as thoughts converse,
Not knowing the abyss of the creeper,
Nerves seem to cry from beneath,
Recollections flash upon that inward eye,
Reflections reconcile for that soliloquy,
When the calm feels vacant and pensive,
When solipsism gets talking and restive

©/IPR: Santosh Chaubey - http://severallyalone.blogspot.com/

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