My exhausted soul is inclined to nothingness 
I feel myself like a hermit in a far cottage 
Life seems insipid and tasteless
Every moment passed like eons
Passion absence breeds nonchalance

Deserting humans became my refuge 

When everything surrounding turns into nuisance
Day or night, it doesn't make difference

Once we live in a bubble of loneliness
We lose that kind of zeal and eagerness

We are like containers of limited possibilities and  spaces

 Usually looking for the fullness to the influx

Then we turn repletes, carrying hearts so vacuous 

We are compelled to coexistence

Despite mankind's inconvenience 

We are by nature sociables and gregarious

Sometimes we may lose brightness 
  As a sudden instance of weakness

My loneliness was a source of repose 

But turned into a provenance of aching dreariness

I want to free from hollow sentiments 

Even through approaching humans

Whatever could be at stakes 

It is the inbred return to one's roots