I have broken wings beyond mending,
I have a bruised knee demanding a band-aid.
My dreams are shattered and scattered.
My spirit is crushed and beyond repair,
I am wandering everywhere to uplift it.
Do I have an identity, to name it my own?
I was born as a daughter, healthy as ever.
We were a strong team my sole sibling and me,
who was enthusiastic and expert in mingling.
I had numerous friends, still by my side today.
The Journey from a loyal friend to a fierce contender,
It was full of obstacles, and I had injuries too many.
Professional life was a sucker and left a bitter taste.
Plunged to matrimony to begin my life as a wife.
New Identity was designed with care only for me.
Unusual dreams, a different place and with misty eyes,
I commenced my life with a brand new perspective.
An amalgamation of inexperience, discrimination, modesty,
fear of being ostracized, pleasing others and insecurity
had taken centre stage in my subconscious.
Lingering there for a long time, all the miseries in my mind.
I plunged into the ocean of agony without thinking twice.
I was lost in my affairs to realize my disappearing Identity.
Like a busy bee, I was absorbing the juices from distress.
An angel entered my life as morning dew, fresh and energetic.
I was ecstatic, and an added emblem was bestowed on me.
Days passed by, and I breathed the air of hope and enthusiasm.
The situation threw me out of life’s car one fine day with force.
I found myself marooned on an island with water to keep me alive,
no luggage, no money, no food to satiate my hunger.
My mind was foggy, and maybe I was incoherent from the blow.
It had left me heart-broken and numerous wounds to wash on.
Life had given several warning signals, and I was too dumb to catch
them in those moments.
I was living a life in a fool’s paradise like a discarded book’s torn page.
Acting like a clown, believing myself to be the Phoenix that rises
from ashes.
I was not paying attention to my Self that was tearing little by little.
In my life, my mantra was ‘this too shall pass’, but it was playing
tricks with my aims.
Time is the stern taskmaster, it prepares you to fit into every cubicle of life.
But it thrashes you like a merciless butcher to rise or to endure till the end.
I am searching for my new Identity: who am I, my purpose in life,
and where will I land next?
I am exhausted with a broken wing and battered spirit.
Grasping about my state and thinking about how to fly again?
Am I happy with my new identification, only I can tell about it!
