Shivani Yadav

Enmeshed I am...
In reasons and argues...
In me and that pure me...
Who knows?
On my soul what's engrossed...
That enjoins me to play...
That enjoins me to feel...
Something pure and true...
The original and new...
Its nature is to rebell...
And it wants me so...
I urge to read...
The enigma- writt upon it...
Which seems mysterious enough...
Like an encryption...
On an old grave stone...
That when deciphered...
Will engild me...
Will enliven me...
Will relinquish me from this 'ennui'...
And there'll be engendered a 'fragile' thread but 'endode'...
Between me and my rebellion soul...
Which when enkindled...
Will lighten me up...
To relinquish, to be remissed...
Of this enormitytious fake world...
To relish the 'vastness'...
To relish the 'new'...