Blackhole

I have spent my days months and years wondering,

The answer to life is nowhere to be seen,
Sailing in an old scotch bottle,
The answer is lost in the pacific.

All directions show no promise;
None shows the path to true happiness.
I hear, I listen, I even try to see,
But the words that fumble from my mouth,
Are still melancholic and shear,

People try to guide me to wisdom;
They try to show me light.
My questions are bigger, beyond the natural,
My questions are beyond the heaven and the hell,
They have a mind of their own.

I realize now how small and insignificant I am,
The answers I begged for make me feel weak and low,
These are not the words you tell a sailor,
Who is yet to start the engine of his Titanic.

These words consume everything you once felt or will ever feel,
They take you to a different dimension,
Where real is unreal,
Where real is surreal.

I hope I could not have heard it,
I hope somebody had stopped me,
But as I waited for that somebody to appear,
My answers presented to me an alternate reality.

Now I want to go back to the place I come from.
I want to forget everything,
My questions, their answers, their significance, their depth, everything.
I want to be that child I once was,
Not the child who yells without any vocal chords.

I try to be my past self.
I try to rewind to restart.
But then again as I try,
Those question do not stop the haunt,
They chase me again almost taking control,
I fight with might with all the energy I can muster,
And I am winning those daily battles.
But I am afraid I am losing my life's greatest war.

-Aanshik Gupta,

3rd Year Meta