O Wind!!!

Standing by the edge of the wind-doors,
I feel the wind,
scrapping off my pretences.
O wind! don’t ripp me apart, 
This world can’t take my soul.

My self is not mine.
Nor I, am my self. 
Beneath the garb,
that I wear,
is me, the real self.
Or is it really a self?
Don’t know!
O wind! don’t ripp me apart,
This world can’t take my soul.

Looking into the mirror,
I see a reflection,
staring back.
Pointing my exteriority,
questioning my depth.
Strangling the unconscious,
straying the conscious.
O wind! don’t ripp me apart,
This world can’t take my soul.


Picture credit: https://www.google.co.in/search?q=window+on+a+windy+day&client=ms-android-lenovo&tbm=isch&tbo=u&source=univ&sa=X&ved=0ahUKEwiH2fzN_vPTAhXGs48KHaOrDB4QsAQIJw&biw=320&bih=452#imgrc=h5LFaJVuCj_cqM%3A

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