The Journal

By Siddhartha Ranjan Misra

Travelling through the aeons, gathering the pieces

Of broken dreams and wants, once their will ceases

Some smooth as marbles, some sharp like shards

Some scattered across years, some at the walk of a few yards

Keeping them all safe, in the centenarian journal of my being

The one to capture the essence of all, the one meant for overseeing

Powers it contained, as was blessed by the cosmic eminence

All that went in was turned into ink, with a categorical benevolence

It took no names, no identity it revealed

To the owner, it contained all to ever exist, to a stranger its contents remain concealed

It was meant for the eyes, the ones embedded in mine

The touch which held the key, to my ungodly shrine

The journey I took upon, wasn't meant to culminate

It was a conscious effort on my part, to experience the dire strait

The one which was revered by many, but was admired from afar

Similar to a clear summer night, when a child would look at a star

Oh! how timid were they, those who didn't dare to step in

Into a fire, which would burn the willingness under your skin

The physicality was never threatened, but the will would no longer exist

None could liberate the soul from that trap, neither the worshipper of science nor a priest

It is when you would be taken into an abyss, of constant wonder and fear

Wherein there is no place for rationality, even own reflection becomes unclear

Where the depth of thought is lost, all left is wish and desire

To submerge oneself deeper, and to become a flame of that fire

Terrifying it may sound, but words can never do justice

A day of burning desire can occupy the time between a solstice

There are those mornings in between when the showers would ease your pain

But no amount of relief could ever take away the bloodstain

You wear your scars like the badges of honour, like a soldier of the war of time

In order to feel a touch again, the one you remember to be sublime

No gratitude is passed, no rank conferred, no act of valour would bring you fame

The only assurance provided is, about a journey so compelling, you'll never be the same

I've walked through this path once before, and had barely come back alive

But the charm once again took me back, without a second thought I took a dive

The emotions and feelings were all familiar, however, something felt divergent

It caught me off guard from my position of comfort, inevitable action was imminent

Never had I doubted myself before, in terms of clarity of my emotions

Why was then my judgement getting clouded, with a plethora of unnecessary emotions?

It was an unending thought, that would lead me to the cusp of dizziness

I would sit alone at times, with my solitude I'd question my worthiness

I had to dive deeper, into the coves of my subconscious

Stepping into a memory of the old, the answer just was conspicuous

The eyes which lead me on the journey before, never really held my secrets, laid it bare for the world to see

How insecure I was as a person, how weak I could be

Silly me, I walked back again, even though I had taken a break

Without analysing the pain of it all, or the havoc it would wreak

Now that I find myself, back at the beginning of it all

I've added leaves to my journal, preparing myself for the long haul

I am anything but afraid this moment, as I know how it's supposed to end

It takes a lot to pen my emotions, and they aren't easy to comprehend

Alas! the only companion I've found on this journey, is the leftovers of those who threw in the towel

As I take their pieces and melt them in my foundry, to mould them for the last vowel...

By Siddhartha Ranjan Misra