A feeling to not feel at all,

Wordless it sounds,

Numbing veins give away blank verse,

Fastening feverish fuels,

Burn down hanged hollowed expressions,

There is no deeper meaning to life.

As good as dead coal,

Mind churns no more,

Heightened emotions of creations core,

Wordless, irrespective borrowed pains,

Yields nothing in the end.

A tired thoughtless self escaping docile grounds,

Forgets fancy ideologies,

Fostering in poetic calls.

Empty hands of prose,

Returns to its realities.

Forget the finger counts,

Mind is nowhere around,

To misunderstand wordless wonders.

Crown the poster ponderings,

Pin it on tragedies of pestering pieces,

And celebrate the madness of minds,

Wordless visions of never found poets.