A Fragment

Placidly sat on a chair in my kitchen, alone but not lonely, I look out of the French doors 

This whole morning speaks of quietude and calm neutrality 

French doors ajar, I hear an intermittent, soft rustling amidst the trees outside, as a breeze caresses the multitude of autumnal leaves 

My faulty tap slowly drips in the metal sink 

Contentedly I partake of my morning coffee ritual, hot liquid comforting my insides on this chilly October morning 

I gaze at my floorboards and admire the grain in the wood, patterns of nature frozen in time 

My mind tries to find some deeper meaning to all this, some philosophical substrate 

But maybe some moments don't require a deeper meaning, maybe this calm, ordinary morning is perfectly sufficient, sufficiently perfect 

This morning is complete and beautiful as it is, with the rustling of the leaves, the dripping of the tap, and the patterns in the wood 

A Fragment

In the sky an expanse of pleated gowns glowed pink, as the sun dipped below the horizon of my world 

Softly radiant, pastel pink, these chalky gowns were spread delicately yet majestically across a pale blue canvas 

Supremely elegant and graceful was the rendering of their existence, as though nature herself were the greatest artist and was showing off 

The pink hue of this dusky, chalky, pastel evening cast itself upon my surroundings, as my world bathed in its delight 

The city streets, the buildings, the pedestrians fluttering by, all were clothed in pink 

A Fragment

I stare at my face in the bathroom mirror and look into my weary eyes 

What have I become?
I no longer know how to live
I no longer understand what matters
Bereft of meaning, I am adrift in a cold, godless city 
 
Wandering the litter-strewn streets, hurried groups of workers rush past me
Faces buried in smartphones, dim light falling on vacant expressions 
E-scooters swerve by arrogantly in the sleepless, neon night 
Teenagers stand on pavements, pouting and taking pictures of each other "yaaass queen this one's goin’ on insta” 
A drunk man stumbles around, bellowing incoherently 
 
I do not share my feelings, my thoughts
I fasten my heart with silence and isolation
I am suffocated by my obstinacy and independence 
In a city constantly buzzing with noise and people and lights, I have never felt so alone 
Hopeless, desperate, I drink more whisky to assuage the pain 
 
Where are my childhood days, care-free and blissful? 
Where is my mother, who once held me in her arms? 
Where are the times when we reaped the bounties of our own seeds and tilled our own soil? 
Where are the gods and myths of old? 
Where are the moments of bravery, loyalty and self-sacrifice? 
 
I cast my thoughts to the past 
Though we have more convenience nowadays, something vital has been lost 
No longer do I see brave, chivalrous figures 
No longer do I see humbleness, authenticity, respect and connection 
Yet ultimately, I only blame myself for the way I feel 
 
I am the one who is wrong, tainted, depraved 
My existence is a mistake, an aberration 
I cannot be mended, repaired, put back together 
I am Humpty Dumpty 
Loneliness and suffering are my lot 
 
Again, I wandered the grimy streets 
Tripping over a curb, inebriated, I fell upon the unforgiving floor 
Lying on the street, lame and helpless, a soft, warm voice emerged from the night “are you okay, my friend?” 
Her blue eyes smiled at me and she extended her hand to mine 
Looking into my blood-shot eyes, she spoke again “you’re not alone”