Enigma

I first faced the horizon to ask“For whom was I born?”
It was when the tender rose bud
Withered before the spring blossomed
The wind may have stolen the answer
For I received none!

“Why was I born?”-it was whatI asked much later in life
When I failed to decipher my destiny
From the maze of lines on my palm
The air around was silent and still
But I got not even the solace
Of a lost reply!

I asked again whether to believe
In the memories of past lives
Or to hope the bright ray of truth
In some eternal future of bliss.
The horizon blushed crimson.

“Fool-you failed to guide me”-cursed I.
From the raindrops that showered that night
A thousand dreams sprouted
It encased my soul as the answer
To all my queries lost in the wind.

It came to me as springs of forgetfulness,
As slumber, darkness and solace....