'Recall'

There were times, saddled, riddled and when I was brittle,
There will be days, when the smiles would sink,
In nights when the dreams would be cursed with a nightmare’s touch
In playing of the sheep, when I would revere a wolf’s touch.

In the known of my being, I will never be fine.

It has been long, distant and distances have been borne,
The curve of green, the wearing off a smile too keen,
In still longing of being heard, I wait..like I have forever
It’s abysmal how a touch can be both a bait and fever!

If I could catch a second and be longed as a visitor,
Wait would be over and the wilt of seeing would be sober.
I have seen the future, braiding through the fragments of past,
But I hold in my cup, the gulp that has long been over!

If I could still claim a stake and if time was generous instead…

Would the dugout be happy or would the reaper be instead kind?
There will be nights, when the tussles would be less,
There are days when the smiles feel like they praise,
But the crater is now deep, the soiled hands – they’re tired.

Here and there, I am caught in a temple of listless…
When missteps pace the treads and place reeks of being haunted!