The journey

The beginning was the end

Such was the manifestation

Pretty artless

Sweeping through like awhirl wind

Going through a numb object

Like a stalker

Peeping through a key hole

Observed through the mirror

The inception of a being

That wasn’t me, but a stranger

It seemed that way

And so it unfolded

Mesmerizing it was

The twists and turns

It was a theatre

Glued me on the seat

The end is predictable

How dreary, tedious

It needs a spin

And like a master craftsman

I will give it one

To be continued..