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Window of an undying question

A window scuttled with dust
wiped a long time ago
Now reeks of a new breath
Twisting winds ravel the forlorn scraps 
managing a row with the bruised edges
It shall take it’s time,
And the master knows this
 
 
dust and wind, dust and wind
The master never knew
that when he shall look 
up and down, up and down
the time will skittle past
to an alley where 
the speed of light is fiduciary 
And the master shall then ask
Himself a question
to which an answer he knows
but shall never confess

 

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Feelings

There are times when your life goes up on a high pace. When things happen so fast that you have hardly any time to think on them, but whatever you think of them, it’s just too hard to let it go away. But you have to. I wish I had the words to document all of those things, but ‘that inner reservoir of creativity’ I was proud of once, is finally drying up.
But I’m not too worried.
May be everything that is happening to me in these times don’t deserve words. May be it’s not feasible to translate them onto a virtual paper. And that’s the irony of it all. When you want to share your feelings with someone, with readers like you who will judge but then not pester, with the people I care about the most who don’t care back for me as much as I do for them – all of this isolates the inner me, eventually.
I’m not going to write about them, and that’s it. I know, the purpose of reading such a post evaporates but then again, it’s not for you that I write; it’s for me.
I feel grief and despair trapped inside of me. It’s poisoning and it’s burning me down like a merciless fire and venom. Sometimes, when you give someone your trust and love, you expect them to return it with the same. Sometimes, they do and then they stop doing it. Unfortunately, I cannot climb myself on the ladder and move on; it’s one of those moments when you know you have no other way but to just move on, but you don’t. Because you care. Because you can’t live without sharing your trust and love around.
I have a funny way of thinking this, too. But in this brief moment of humour, it still leaves a sting. When someone hurts you, they’re like a sandpaper. You end up getting polished and they end up becoming useless. However, when you rub on and on, your polish fades and bruises appear, and trust me, they hurt more than anything else.
I am happy that If I failed to write my feelings down as they came, I wrote up on a summary of why I felt I couldn’t do it. You see, feelings are so distinctive and unique, so pure and commanding that most of the times you’re at the mercy of their  whims. I hope with all the gloom following me at this moment just simply goes away. If not replaced by happiness, then at least by something but sadness and uncertainty.
I wrote this post listening to Les Miserables music. Although this post does not carry any kind of connection to the music or the movie, I felt that when you feel something, augmentation factors help. That’s how I convinced myself into writing this up.
And ending this post up with a quote I found on the internet seems appropriate: “Breathe, let go and remind yourself that this very moment you have is with you for sure.”
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