A Blowball Orphan

I am a blowball

That’s detached from

Her pivotal cord

Flying without a direction

Or a destination foreseen  

Languidly lazily like a

River flowing ripple less

Without an identity-

A race, tribe or a flock,

I was separated from my cluster

That I know nothing about

Believing that existence

Existed this way,

I got exhausted waiting

For my progenitors to come,

I got lost in my efforts

To discover my own roots,

But all I encountered was

The mocking face of my own faith,

I unloaded my yearnings

In the clay clad loam

And walked away

Lacking a sensible conclusion

Accepting the name they call me-

An unwanted straying Orphan…