Like a poor stray
And forlorn soaring bird
Without navigational instinct
Or a resting place
In the high seas
Takes a recourse to
The sailing ship.
It flies away to a distance
In search of better avenues
Or the main land
Yet finding none
Under compulsion
Comes back on the deck
Of the good old ship
The only support
Lest it too may be lost.
I am no good than the bird
For it’s a lifespan now
In an endeavor to learn
To live without you
And recover from your loss.
It’s not that
I have not taken recourse to
The available diversions –
Totally engrossed in work
And duty calls
Extensive travel to places
Native as also exotic abroad
Attempted to befriend people
And occupied self in pastime
Music, reading and sports
Yet the compulsion –
Nothing really works
Nothing really lasts.
For in my solitude
You still keep on surging
Compelling to peep in the past
Through the journey of love
And end of a great friendship
In a detour to shared olden days
Then I am under compulsion
Unable to overcome your charm
Always and ever remain
A prisoner of your thoughts.
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