But Not I
Approaching the fourth decade, and counting,
A journey that never seem to terminate,
A much-awaited celebration I’m keen to perform,
Alas! It’s not taking place, and fulfilling my wish.
Supposed to start on an optimistic note,
Begins with terrible guilt and remorse,
And, stretches limitlessly, failing anticipations,
Thus, losing the flavour, and creating me the culprit.
Perhaps, I’ll be the record holder, it appears,
Of existing on this planet for the maximum time,
Every loving soul departing one by one,
Leaving me forever in a detestable hollow.
Whoever wants life to end, but I?
A living carcass with rusted dreams and desires,
I’ve never really discerned what life should be,
A hallucination or a nightmare, and utterly tasteless.
And so, it’s a divine curse, I can assume,
From which there’s no rescue, I declare,
For I’ve lusted and there’s no remedy,
But to welcome divine wrath and penalty.
Forgiveness is a divine trait, not applicable to me,
Even the hardest criminal can be purged of sin,
But, not I, and, so is this hellacious life,
Where I’m stuck till eternity breathes last.