The Epilogue

My mind is doubtful, my emotions are dead
my conscience is quiet….
I don’t know where I am, I can’t see anything

My vision is obscured, darkened by the glare of luminosity
I think I imagine faces, faces of sorts
some euphoria stricken, some with guise, some guilelessly gleeful

I feel they stand tall, as I stand on a lectern maybe
They are bigger than me, like colossal giants
I can’t dare to look them in eyes anymore, they might swallow me

I fear, and I look away
But no fear stays too long, fear is engulfed by the black hole of numbness
What do I feel now..? Little frigid blob, rolling down my facial skin

Can it be a tear? Seems Implausible, because
there are no pangs of conscience, not anymore
My mind begins to respond, it is, as though, recuperating a fit

As I start to recall a similar setting,
a setting where I am among these people, and euphoria stricken
a young fledgling
I stand there celebrating the man on the podium

Getting transported by his monologue to a dream world
Where I imagine myself to be in his place, addressing everyone
doing a soliloquy, impressing an illusory audience
by a concoction of homilies and make-believe inspiring memoirs
filled with complacency
Another frigid blob rolls down

It is hard to believe, it was the same ‘me’ who had indefinite fancy
full of varied emotions, ingenuity, ambitions

I too had fervor, zeal, eagerness to live
Then why now, am I a living corpse?
Why am I doled out in freckles of energy
across my living fetid carcass?

Why don’t I feel happy or sad or rueful
Why don’t I feel anything?
Perhaps, now I’m not young
not juvenile

My youthfulness fell prey to countless wounds
wounds of aspirations, wounds of dismissal
rebuff, desertion, ill-founded groundless hopes
But finally, to my own incredulity, I’m here!

Standing in place of my nonage hero
living my dreams
but with a juxtaposition that
I’m not living anymore…