Anarchic Analogy

i am like dust ...
blown by the wind...
misunderstood..
loved yet hated ..
despised yet wanted...
from a shadow i emerge...
only to disappear in the darkness..
of the Sun..
walking the last mile...
yet its just the beginning
of a journey of thousand miles
and perhaps, as few smiles...i put on the garb of a saint
smear myself with holy paint....
just to escape those thousand eyes...
looking blindly ...
i know they cant see anything ...
neither can they hear..
(they are deaf too)
but am too afraid too scream ...
in case that awakens them from their slumber...
but ...
but...
its harder...
than you think...
its not a pretty pink .....
neither its blue...
or black
or orange...
its a murky colorless red
but slowly the color fades..
and leaves behind a stain...
to remind you of the pain...
and perhaps the joys too....
sometimes I cry...
atleast I try ...
but tears elude me...
and the smile sneers...
and so do my peers..
perhaps its destiny ...
or its THE opportunity....
that i have let go ...
that i had held onto...
only to let it slip...
'cause the harder u try to squeeze...
the faster it vanishes...
like sand...
like water...
on a trepid stretch of land....
someday...
sometime...
the wind will blow...
and grains of sand would glow...
in the embers...
and then....an amber....
i would be there...