Sanctum

Dear me,
Answer me today.
I have questions to ask.
Yesterday, when I tore the curtain of smile,
Through the glass I saw you.
I have often seen you run in that direction.
Whom do you chase?
You went beyond the fields,
Into a new land.
Where the dawn was stale,
The sun rose yesterday,
The glaciers of misery
Melted into a rill of agony,
It advanced over the scree of regret
Over mushrooming unsaid words-
Words that you often mumble in your sleep.

Where were you when the night came?

I saw the ants at the threshold;
Their drill of carrying crumbs of memories
At the rate of 7 tears per second.
Who inhibited that shack-
Fashioned from relations
Glued together with the concrete of time?
Where the door was left ajar
By gentle winds riding on spineless-thoughts; so fragile.
Disgusting.
What do you do there?
What is that place?
Whom were you chasing?
Or
Were you being chased?
Is that your sanctum?