Wings

Go away hurt, dust,
demise of hope.
I want to believe
in a better life,
a life sans the clutter
of unwarranted thoughts
of household chores,
of food to be warmed up, served;
of dusty rooms, of locked up interiors
of words wrapped up
in silhouettes of loneliness.
Let me be.
Let go off me disdain
so that I can swing again
in dreamy contours of flowing ink
that plant wings to my thoughts
and create a new world, once again
of laughter, love and writing...