Tell me, how far you want to descend 
Into your own abyss? 
This dismal long exodus 
Into the mind's peripheral woods is arduous.
You drag yourself forcefully 
Into this alley of deluge– 
And you ruefully rally round the labyrinth 
Of your obnoxious, jolted life. 
The savage tyrant you've become 
In your own secluded realm, 
You willfully turn yourself 
Into a one-eyed, limping pirate 
Of a rogue phantom ship 
That seizes to cruise through the waves 
Of the deep macabre sea.
You hardly notice the peril 
Of your medieval psyche
By glimpsing down on the pixilated, mottled mirror
That will never be able to capture 
The true essence of the metamorphosis 
That is constantly happening inside you!
In your trance, the morbid you 
Mutter some voodoo words to unfold and engage 
The covert evil power that vilifies the fallacy 
Of this urban diaspora. 
Your laidback bohemian mind
Unscrews the Pandora's box discreetly
And you start to hallucinate.
You raise your heavy head 
From your dispersed body 
And see a fog-draped nocturnal raven
At the nearby minaret top of a mosque 
In the wee hours of a pathetic night.
It flaps its withered wings a few times 
To shove away the stink of its injured being. 
Another dubious dawn ushers 
To quell the cacophony of your tortured soul– 
And you continue to exist 
To savour the melted melody of a surreal life.

Mozammel Haque Ranju is a marketing professional working in a reputed apparel conglomerate. A fading poet, as he claims himself to be, found an inner voice that tells him to delay his retreat.