A Creed of Disconnection
I can sense the disconnection.
A feeling of familiarity,
But a loss of symbiosis.
As it is but a word of utterance
That shatters the sanity,
And the hands quiver,
The eyes lose sight,
And the body shrinks into the void of sullenness.
I can feel the nostalgia,
Of the previous pieces,
That I had left behind.
A broken mess in completion,
And a retraction of the victory of virtue.
I feel the bitterness,
Nudged into an ageing corner,
Of the unfamiliar stone that heaved carelessly,
But with due grace indeed.
I take my resounding step,
My Act has ended,
For it never began,
And I glare at the inevitability.
The night right in front of my face,
And I feel the concluding full stop,
As the senses fade,
And all that remains,
Is the grief of a sin I didn’t commit.
– Imaan Siddiq
The Genres of Life 