Sunday, May 22, 2016

Use of being

What is that longing called, to find one’s use in scheme of things?
To be a cause of someone’s laughter and excuse for your existence
What is those bundle of feelings are called
A mix of anger, jealousy, affection and anticipation
Which come and go as you count the seconds during heart’s deprivation
Those memories which you create of things happened and imagined
Impervious to circular time


What is that obsession to find meaning in things ?
And believe that what is unsaid may not necessarily be unknown
Is there a line beyond which our stories merge together?
Or is it just the immortal time making fun of mortal illusion

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