Crossed Wires

A mangled heap of wires

Black, thin and rubbered

Lie in my palms

Menacingly intertwined

Seemingly inextricable

The more I try to unknot, the more I tilt at the windmills

The more I try to cut the Gordian knots, the more I end up in tangles

Try as I may to unweave, I enmesh into a new-fangled mess

The fact remains

Music shall avoid my ears

In Solitude, though possible, it may still

Enter into different ears if I decide to sodcast

Do I want it?

I don’t know

I give up. I deliberate

The extrapolation of the crossed wires

To more bombastic proportions of entanglement

Where wires lie crossed

Over the troubled waters of life

Can I re-purpose the tangled assortment of problems

With the vast multitude of people?

Should I let my music

My soul music, meant solely for me

Out to the unwilling world?

Or should I move heaven and earth

Fight tooth and nail

To extricate the wires

And let myself immerse in plaintive melody?

Assiduous attempts I can still make

But they still may fling me back into an abyss of nothingness

A vexing conundrum indeed

I have made up my mind

I shall temporize

And swim with the flow

Either I will reach

Fate’s grand old paradise

Or dystopify into hell’s excruciating tunnels

I will not regret if it’s the latter

I will rejoice if it’s the former

If it is eventually the latter

I will brave the tunnel till

I get to land’s end where I can

Gambol into the greensward of the former

Either ways, life will sort itself out