Cornucopia of Thoughts

Momentous bursts of wondrous colours,
The magic of imagination,
The silence of tranquillity,
All arranged in disarrayed, fractional forms,
Ethereal fractals looping in and out,
Spinning, twirling, bending and twisting
Each of the countless corners of the mind,
Remnants of the oldest memories,
Some distinctly preserved, some almost forgotten,
Drawing surreal images of one’s being from the past.

The petalous sweet-scented surges of bygone moments,
Sparking pleasurable, wistful sensations,
Leaving a craving for the joy to stay a little longer,
Before reality seeps in,
Sadistically extinguishing the sparks one by one,
Reminding one of the droplets of agony,
Oozing out of the still fresh wounds,
The scars haunting each moment constantly,
The retentiveness hurting far and wide,
With flashes of pain, grief, anger and regret.

Oh, what the mind would have been, but an empty shell,
Without hope, the essence of life,
The strongest and the subtlest force that drives one forward,
One which heals the wounds with fragments of time,
The most intense when evoked,
Yet a liar at times,
A beast which stops at nothing,
Creating false visions of a possibly non-existent future,
Nevertheless the commander of one’s doing and undoing,
In the ephemeral cornucopia of thoughts.

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