you plunged,
and dived,
into the softness,
into the very depth,
of the darker,
more gullible,
phases of the story,
story of my life,
very benignly,
penetrating into the sieves,
into the disaster borne,
blunderous mess,
one after the other,
slowly occupying victoriously,
every possible,
barren piece of prohibited land,
promising a reward for being an occupant,
I waited…
and waited,
for centuries,
very patiently,
to drench into the downpour,
to soak myself,
when the fruit of forbearance showers,
so that it would descend,
upon the loneliness,
and wash it away,
with strides of strong currents,
but all it did was,
snatch me away from myself,
and while I was gone,
the world spun a thousand years,
a thousand moons,
and a thousand seasons,
in a blur,
it all kept slipping away from me,
so much so that when it stopped,
I was all gone…