Hiraeth

Underneath the deep saffron sprayed sky
I try freezing the tide of time
holding onto the diaphanous
sheer cover of
the impending dusk
inadequately.
For,
despite my efforts,
the voices rise
as the light dims
and the night screams of solitude
for the eyes to see;
chaotic for my memories
that comes out
one by one
through
the locked doors
of
my consciousness.
My distressed soul then delves
deep into
the benthic woe
relentlessly fighting
dystopia
And
as my nerves
sediments
underneath the current
I become homesick
for my home
which
never existed.