Dead Leaf

No story can describe the character which m living...
What should I called to myself...
Or how I should define me...

A vulgur portrait on canvas???
Broken Wings?
Bird in Cage?

Chained in golden threads...

Clamor in a air,

Colour of clouds, 

Dead leaf on tree, 

Eternity of emotions,

Endowed one to bear all,

Flame of cremation,

Flower of rose on burial..

Glory of ruined?

Height of monster?

Ivory of ignorance???

Jubiliation of breathing..

Kidnapped in rituals,

Light of lamp,
Melody of mourn...
Nest....who's always search?
Oomph of their omissions?
Pity on presence?
Queen of cards?
Ray of hope...
Silence of responsibility?
Treasure in a trunk?
Umbrella of colours?
Vision of blind??
Words of book,?
I think
I remain as XYZ. (In everyone though...  I'm No one)
As....
Rat's nest
Or
Mirror of thousands dead leaf???



Pause.
What m doing?
Why is it necessary to define me?
Why only end justifies the meaning?