rambling and bumbling
the life within life,
Constricting four walls, inward thoughts
And the foray of self-introspection,
Are these the rewards of quarantine hues?
Like a broken wings of Phoenix, caged
Devoid of the sublunary world,
Room bereft of stark and colour,
waiting for the gardens of russet,
And rays of hopes to bloom,
Manning the art of living,
stewing the life of tranquillity and peace.