Cycle

Life is cyclic
because the same flood and drought of emotions repeats itself
every year
I am thrown helter skelter by the rising tides of enthusiasm
Eloquent and full of promises
None can understand the secret of the bubbling energy
while it does not take much of time to be in the next phase
the slow ... not steady ... travel of mine
silence pervading me... funeral like
now it is my turn not to believe myself
what is happening all in me
the inflated balloon with its air oozing out
I am alone at this end to realise when must I stop
this cycle to a steady state
do not tell me that it may happen after my lifeline becomes steady and horizontal