The Butterfly

I used to look at the sun very often,
It's magnificent rays,
The limitless shine,the infinite glow.
The sun had dignity,it had courage,
to go beyond those horizons,
and show the world it's reality,
It's aura,the splendidness ,
It's unparalleled beauty,beyond anybody's comprehension.
 The world told me not to look at the sun for long,
It said I would squint and be blinded by the strength,
I was told not to dream of the impossible,the unconquerable,
Without once noticing my irrevocable fascination,
It marked boundaries,confines to my aspirations,
 And a constraint to separate reality from beautiful ambitions.
Ambitions,which would give me wings,
regardless of the encumbrance,
The burden,of worldly norms,
The fear of exile.
My ambitions were mercilessly trampled.
Lost,I began gazing at the moon,
The shining silver light,
gently patting even the tiniest of objects,
Not seeking meaningless boundaries,
Gave me inspiration,
A mellow feeling inside my heart,
Inspiration to grab my aspirations,
and give them life,and vitality.
But alas! I was encountered again,
by the confederacy of restrictions.
I was scolded now,for being fooled,
Fooled by the deceptive beauty,
of the moon,which would put one in a trance,
And disappear within the blink of an eye,
Not to be seen for almost an eternity.
But I did not stop dreaming,
and looked up into the sky,
to finally discover that it was endless.
It was infinite,vast,heavenly, unsurpassed,
Just like those dreams,
which I never stopped having,
and never will.
The butterfly had to break free,
from the cocoon one day
it did,and what a sight it was.

The Tongue

My world went awry for a while,

When I realised what I had just done,

or rather,

what 'it' had just done.

My mind blacked out for those few crucial moments,

When 'it' had all the control,

and I was left dangling like a puppet.

It went meandering out of the cave,

to establish a world of contradiction,

then ,stepping aside,

rather than defending me against the repercussions.

I caught the drift of my folly,

when I knew that it did not have a mind of its own,

but was a part of me,

a deep,involuntary aspect,

like an alter ego perhaps,

which resurfaced time and again,

to spice things up,

to see the look on my face,

in a grave crisis,

a crisis of the mind,body and soul.

A crisis of the being.

The crisis of being weak.

The realization that I was helpless,

and pitted against the world because of 'it'.

Retrospect

I want to rewind,
My life.My existence.
My mind.My soul.
My being.My purposes.
My decisions.
I want to relive,
My moments.My emotions.
My feelings.My sentiments.
My victories.My joy.
I need to erase,
My past.My tears.
My regrets.My disenchantment.
My malcontent.
I want to repeat,
My mistakes,
To learn a new lesson all over again.