You strike with a subliminal force that would defy,
Staring me in my face as you vividly imply,
‘Take me if thy soul quenches in a cry,
And melts with the agony of a fate so scorchingly dry’.
As the sands of time make patterns adrift,
You can change its path making inroads so swift,
Dealing blows to my mind in a gruelling rift,
That weighs down in turmoil with the impulsive shift.
I cede to the reins of my train of thought,
As tracks plot their journeys to change my lot,
I halt you dead in your track in a fearsome knot,
Adding fuel to my mind that seems fraught in a clot.
‘Twould need feline grace to fill my voids with lace,
Lest I miss my chance by a whisker of space,
A hair’s breadth counts in almost ev’ry race,
As my mind craves for space at a better pace.
Ev’ry dot speaks to create a bigger picture,
I thus train my mind in a valiant fit of composure,
Connecting dots that would define the breadth of my future,
With a monumental frame that would complete the picture.
Published in ‘The Copperfield Review’:Motioning Destiny