Empty pages

Seek recourse from an empty mind

and an empty heart

Stop! Don’t feel!

Lest you weep

If you weep

You’ll unleash a storm

And then

What about the repercussions?

The aftermath?






Let all storms die within.


Breathe- breathe- breathe


I see the shadow of my hand as I write

Is that of some significance?


Does this simple interplay of light, form and feeling embody a deeper meaning?

Why did this thought come to me?

Ah! Is it because there are now two of us?

The outside is now looking in?


I wonder

Are you writing about me?

Or am I writing about you?

Speak, dammit!

Is that how you look?


Sans detail

Sans voice

Just a shadow

You’re nothing but a mere cast of me?

But then, are you my essence?


Just empty watchfulness

An empty page

Defined by nothing more than a silhouette.




5 thoughts on “The Insignificance of Significance

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