I look down, developing dizzy.
People, cars, trees, roads, all a chaos.

I hear the wind, winding monstrously.
Top floor & constant anxiety.

I touch the drops, dropping away.
Looking above & asking for mercy.

I smell the earth, soaking rain.
Wishing it doesn’t soak the poor’s homes’

I taste nostalgia, numbing brain.
Wanting to purposely get wet in the rain.

The views from the window,
Inspire me everyday,
Yet conspire nothing but a mundane day.

The first rays of the sun,
Wakes me fresh.
The last rays,
Spark an interest.
The vivid new colors everyday,
The shapes of cloud changing everyday.

The vibe of the skies,
Keeps me hooked.
To see another day.
With new colors and shapes.

When lemon, crimson, pink and sky blue,
Turns to grey, moon blue and black,
With a chandelier of blinking lit-homes,

I look straight, finding the lost seamless sea.
I hear silence, creeping in noisy homes.
I touch thy constellation, far in vacuum space.
I smell the burnt curry, lost in wounded thoughts.
I taste the bittersweet, taste of life.

The views from the window,
Keeps me on the edge everyday,
To jump or fall,
In the love of life,
For the love of life,
To meet the love of life.


Existential Crisis.