Sometimes I am a hurricane,
at a centre of collapsing,
But, sometimes I am a fighter,
struggling to survive.
Sometimes, I am turbulence in a river,
ready to flee in a sigh.
But sometimes, I am a conflict of emotions,
which is high.
Sometimes, I feel like a thunderstorm,
with too much rain.
No grasp on idea, what to do with all the lightening,
that is making me vain.
Sometimes, I feel like a book with no cover,
whose colophon has been torned.
Which is filled with so many words,
But only those who care to read,
Will only know,
What I am about to shout.
Sometimes I am standing at a crossroads,
Unsure, curious, suspicious.
And sometimes I fear, I have came too far to tread back.
The code of rediscovering the self, I am about to hack.
So, to my inquisitive self,
Forever full of doubts.
Just talk to your inner hesistant dreamer,
Of all the acheivements, of love and fidelity,
With a silent promise of self-discovery.