The Animal Instinct

The animal instinct 

Does not let us sleep

Even on the cosy laps.
It makes our nerve throb
And tatters our fine frame
We are made up of.

A single curved shrug can
Tear us apart from within
And thrash us into the Lethe
Of dubious challenges
To peep into the splashed blood.

Nibble the nails,
Stop by the wood and
Behold a blooming mushroom
By the side of a moist suffocating hay
And the life will reflect
Its own shadow
On the thrust of a stained mirror.

The ceaseless time machine speeds up 

And endless footholds measure by

The counted days to sustain
In the blissful ambience of trust
Letting the suspended breaths
Blare alive in the drowsiness.

What a faith man has
To correspond with the heaven
And harvest a planet of his own
And make a move to laugh with the moon
When he is not certain
He will witness the next sun !
                             © Written by Manoj Kumar Mishra