Her Mysterious Meshuga.

There is a whirlwind of chaos inside her

An entropy, a madness, a little emptiness

That ceases her sanity from within.

The mania, the frenzy, the wilderness

All a part of her nugatory existence.

 

The deadening disarray enchaining her minds

Building a claustrophobia

Which you may never succeed to define.

The restlessness, the anxiety, the neurosis

All a part of her woebegone reality.

 

She is imprisoned betwixt the chain and its steely embrace,

She resides inside the merciless bolt and clasp,

And yet she has the zeal to envisage dreams,

To live in a reverie, a trance, a ravishing fantasy,

Her weening tenacity terrorizing her pandemonium to feebly vamoose.

 

 

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42 thoughts on “Her Mysterious Meshuga.”

  1. Beautiful!! Your choice of a wide array of words reflects your impressive vocabulary and your usage of them at the right place reflects your command over the language – both the qualities of a great writer and poet!! Superb!! 👌 👌

    Liked by 1 person

  2. “She was determined to make herself be loathed” ❤️ powerful!!
    Another nice one!! Though i liked ‘Her Mysterious Meshuga’ more than this but this one also has its own charm!

    Liked by 1 person

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