When the life strikes…

A stab here,
and a scratch there!!
A guilt here and
a sorrow there;
But still I stand tall
without preservations,
I am drunk too,
but without drinking!!
drunk to the senses,
with the trickled
drops of the
mundane
solitary
metaphor called life…
A search for
the passion
the faith
the senses;
so I can feel again
the touch,
the smiles and
the grieving heart!
For now
I don’t feel
I don’t see
I don’t hear
anything
anyone..
I stand here
drunk
without drinking!!
and this is how
life strikes for me!!