Soul

Mind is full 

House is empty 

Decoding the life still

Living on the top of a hill.

No one to listen 

No one to ask

Have lot to say

And much to know 

Living with plenty space 

In a room.

Want to rush in the morning hours 

Demand a busy day

Take instructions and give guidance 

Though no one around 

Thinking in own way

Living along with wired life 

In a garage stray.

Let this life end

All the hearing and listening 

Will become quiet 

People will make noises 

By then soul is free 

To roam

Living no where 

Air is my abode.