Vidyut Jain's Blog

These are the sounds,

Of the whispers of silence

Echoing through the vortex of eternity

Beyond space and time

Of which there can be no inevitability,

These forms of life keep shifting

 Into elusive apparitions,

Sometimes appearing with marked lucidity

At others,

Dwindling into the whispering silences

Often, infecting us unawares, spilling

The ennui of worldly cares,

Gumption fraught from being sapped

The distant sound subsumes within

Life within becomes deathly fatigued

Hung in between, in an existence

Without a biography

The yearning for freedom

 Almost within grasp

Murmuring babel

Undulating comprehension

Obscuring vision

Sentient hope

I sleep with them,

The whispering silences

Echoing,

 Till I am lost

 To the streams of the unconscious