Enna ezhudhardhu...

Knowing not what to write, with an urge to write something at this odd hour, I write this.
Total incoherence ahead. Better to skip reading this post...

The wooden log,
With the dead mind,
Constantly being pushed around by the current,
Though still thinking it was by conscious choice,
At last knows, at least knows,
It is the current that is making the choices.
With this awakening,
Is born a new mind...

No fear exists, for now the log knows the ways of the current
I can see the land.
The end is getting clearer with every push.
As I relish the last of my swims... I can see the land.