Lonely Traveller.

I am a lonely traveller…
Journeying through some dreamy spring forest,
I have no idea, how I reached here
Nor do I know where I have started.
I don’t know my destination;
This much I know, I have entered this forest,
And lost my way, and do not know whither I am bound to!

I am a traveller searching the face of human beings;
An illusion, nonplused; and still travailing.
Still walking, seeking, but of no avail.
When the day enters, behind the curtain of
Darkness, with wearied treads, I try
To sleep under the shade of the big tent,
The sky has spread above me.

Reminiscence, like a rose flower
In a bravura vase of the mind;
Like the incessant rain splattering
In the night, on the tin roof, of the soul;
The vanishing mist, and the night who
Vanquished a beautiful opulent evening;
The air wafting in a soft melody in the distance,
In negligence, passing above me.

It dawns on me, that everyone is wearing a mask,
Smiling and charming, radiating kindness
From the eyes, and with soft voices.
A façade to dupe his neighbor,
A make-belief, to appear as saints.
I discern, the painted veil peeling off
From their masks, and see demons there.
Vixens with avarice and lust, preying!