Suddenly days have become
just stretches of nothingness,
between dawn and dusk.
Bottomless pits
that I keep filling
with life breaths.

I hold their headless necks
and look inside.
An eerie emptiness reaches the eyes.
A heap of numbed life force
lies at the other end,
just wasting away.

The dark and empty insides
echo with deafening silences,
much to express, nothing to say.
These dark, dead, empty days,
I keep throwing away,
day after day,
each day,
till some day
when there’s naught.
Moksha.