Dear
Beloved,
Here
I stand submerged in the blackness
of the night waiting for the morn
of the night waiting for the morn
As if a red rose is
awaiting for the rays to fall on it only to make its ‘naked beauty’ wrapped in
dew drops visible to the human eye”
Your
effect is fading with the slowness of the darkness.
It
is like an intoxicated person coming to sobriety,
The
only difference is the awareness!
And
the unawareness of the recurrence of this prolonged colored darkness.
Though the feeling can’t
be figured out clearly at the moment but there is a weariness and independence –
soon to be realized.
The remembrances are
concealed by the opaque veil or perhaps they have come to know of their
unworthiness to be remembered.
It is strange but there
is no anxiousness, no remorse, and no regret but there is a satirical myriad of
thoughts constantly brewing and continuing to emanate as if all this was done
knowing the fate of this virtual so called sojourn.
If you are pointing out
to the symptoms which somehow happen to arise then don’t be judgmental as these
are the ones of care and worry shown once as after all I am a lesser mortal
like you all there and forgive me for my flaws for there are manifold.”
The memory has not yet
entirely vanished but it now comes as an infliction and
like concrete bars are piercing my head only to put me asleep perhaps
acting in a way as
if making it easy for me to abhor them.”
if making it easy for me to abhor them.”
