I'm That Exiled Rhyme Poem by Aadil Hingorjo

Sometimes I feel emotionally dead,
Extremely divided, and intensely derailed,
that no any rationale reciprocates at all.
The nature, reading, and politics,
Nothing of the sort really hypnotizes me.
I want to write endless lines without any stoppage,
but I can't.
I fail there.
I feel like a bright star whose beauty is scattered into deep bits.
Birds inside me go silently smothered;
I'm intrinsically cut off!
I cry with and without tears.
Such moments are the torments that testify me.
Or they are asset to my spirit, I don't exactly know.
Everything seems to me absurd.
Even the absurd air too disdains me.
I've survived around eight accidents
Including a deathly one as well;
And you know what when any extreme accident happens to me,
I feel as if I'm falling into the arms of my love, and liberty.
What's before me is inexpressible enigma,
And I want to meet end that time.
I wish to be knocked down.
But hospitals of the metropolis after a while confirm,
that all I've received are mere terrible injuries,
and they're like lifeline to my existential art.
They strengthen me further which I abhor;
A kind of strange taste lies in them which I don't like.
Thoughts of suicide keep hovering upon me many times.
But I don't do it.
I'm not that brave, perhaps.
I'm not that strong perhaps.
Gestured to the unknown entities,
I'm that exiled rhyme.