Existence Of My Own Poem by Utkarsh Tripathi

Edacity for coin which keeps baiting,
expectations of others which goes on inflating,
although I have no existence of my own,
still I exist, that is all, and I find it nauseating.

Effigy of better eternity keeps on ruminating,
my sins and virtue are busy in interrogating,
although I have no existence of my own,
still I exist, that is all, and I find it nauseating.

My tears are now as futile as sheep's bleating,
someone will hold me, my eyes still awaiting,
although I have no existence of my own,
still I exist, that is all, and I find it nauseating.

For others thirst my hope estuary is mitigating,
neither the story is mine, nor I am narrating,
although I have no existence of my own,
still I exist, that is all, and I find it nauseating.