I went to an annual gathering of souls
Mute and desolate but with passionate thoughts
No soul knew each other except their thoughts
For they cannot see, speak, hear or move
It’s those multi-coloured musings that expand
Attach and tangle with others
Singing a lullaby throughout the night
Oh, what a fairy tale sight!
Beautiful colours and melodious sounds
An artist’s dream and a writer’s joy
And no one to share, what a plight!
The strangeness gone once I noticed
For the thoughts always choose their owners
And never the other way around
Fascinating was their peculiar journeys
Not one makes it alive as it originated
Not one ends the way it started
Not one knows its family or friends
As if solely they live to produce kin and die
By Shravya