On Feeling and Filling Emptiness

I decide to go for a ride on the empty path
Loneliness has clothed me from all the sides
Like the white cloak covers the dead in the casket
And I see nothing through this piece of cloth
And I long to get away from it
When I put it away
Alas, nothing was there but my emptiness.

Why are there so many people, so suddenly?
—When I'm but a dry tree in the drought
In this moment, in relativity
We get the least when we want the most
And when the least is wanted, the most.

This is the festive season of October
And am I cursed and tonsured?
This season, the leaves are on the ground plundered
They give me company watching the leafless trees
There is an unnoticeable wall that barricades me
With no country, no family, nobody
And I'm lost in the crowd awfully
As I see solitude glaring at me.

This festive season is another name for tragedy
As I am, amongst the crowd, beaten black and blue

All I see is spotless white solitude, inside and out
And I am on the road, beside a nameless stadium
The invisible crowd cheers for its country
And I am, confused as much as I'm alone
With no country to cheer for
With no country to die for

Outside my body, there is an eerie silence;
And in, the blaring noise is intolerable
I'm not sure which way leads to home,
I'm drifting again, putting on another cloak, 

With or without, it does not make any difference anyway

I drift as I rewrap the emptiness.