Friday, November 30, 2012

One Hundred Years Of Solitude


.........For the rest of time, it would be like no one even knew we was ever here
                                                                                             (Gangs of New York)

Torn spider webs in old house, dead flower in a book
Footsteps in the sand, paper boats in the stream
Goodbye kisses and hushed whispers under cherry tree
All the nostalgic realities, fighting each other to be singled out
To stand the test of time
To become deathless when we keep remembering

Experience; a glimpse into transitory illusion
Existence; a speck of dust in a cosmic journey
Oceans keep echoing within and we keep circling the dying sun
Of becoming black holes and painful immortality
Memories of stars lie safe with us
Their stories of solitude and the chaos within

The choice to run away and the chance to fit in
And all those countless deaths we died in between
There lies the crux of our solitude
The knowledge that nothing will be same again

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