I am a Guest in my own house
Stranger in my own memories
I give shoulder to my own funeral
Fire to my own pyre
My Consciousness is my own enemy
It treats me as a nemesis
Ever encumbered under the clarity of reality
I steadily stumble
I am used to sleeping with open eyes
And awake with them being closed
I try to stop the flow of thoughts
But isn't it a thought itself
The consciousness is irrelinquishable
Till death it will persist
Wherever the eternal soul goes
These gazing eyes exist
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Thanks a lot Rashmi :)