I have not arrived
as yet, to meet myself.
Existence betrays.
After the shock, I
want to ask a question
in trembling voice \"Why\".
Where the flesh ends
at the edge of bones,
eyes will speak.
Unthinking, I
pick a rose, to prick
my fingers. That was
the truth.
Dying was easier,
than to live. Still I want
to stay back to see
the miracle.