Amorphous Soul

For the ordinary I am
Searching life in inert objects
Has been the passion of dreary life lately
For artless life lies there
To be sorted out
Like the typing dyslexia
From a combination of misplaced letters
But, I need to start somewhere
A start to come out of this hibernation
Amorphous soul high on inebriant
The non-spirit left on its own
My dear, I need to tell you
It is not as easy as calling “so we’re friends now”.
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About Barun Jha

Infrastructure Professional, Introvert,Writer, Wonderer, Wanderer
This entry was posted in Barun Jha, Micro Stories, Thoughts and tagged , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

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