As I stand here, in the nude
reflections from my unnamed mood
thoughts of pressures work I see
sprouting grey hairs from within me.
Wonder I, when I will be done
for many days are absent the sun...
Look myself, see thy face,
Those eyes and ears, that brain do I brace.
That brain that moans for fortunes taste
that makes me write... why I time waste?
I wonder what my stars behold
for sessions have I of fortunes been told...
I stand before 20 years a book
and ponder at the steps I took...
If, left were right and right were left,
To this point would I still get?
Why can't I look at myself
and see the happened in the now?
Choose my path and rechoose the route
to make the ideal reason of suite?
© Naadir Vorajee