Thyself

That hollowness subsides, 
when you peacefully reside,
On a shoulder you own,
Yes! Your own!!

That's what it is, love it is,
With a prefix 'SELF', 
which you rightfully slide beside your pride;
Ego is what is left behind,
With a pinch of you, in all the light and bright places, 
The fancy bites and crowdy laces;

But you're lost and 'lost and found',
by nonetheless you. 
The very righteous owner,
but full of sharp edges and corners.

Little pat and an itsy bitsy treat, 
how much it streaks the kid's zeal! 
Go on gentle to that wrapped up toddler,
Yes, that one, the one you disguise. 
Hold hands, pull it out of the dire dark side,
where it bawls and shouts and painfully scoffs.

No show offs,  no runny ramps, no city lights, no singing bands!

Unleash the self, wild and fierce,
like phoenix ignited from a tear,
burn bright, glow light, dim the plight, and rise wide!

And then, when you peacefully reside, that's when you discover you are a might.
                                                    - Vartika Saxena