A resonance that sounds in the distance,
It draws anyone closer,
And down the tortuous treacherous trail,
Guiding leading – misleading,
With its charm,
It leads anyone down the path
It ushers you onward – on a path into oblivion,
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I look at the world,
Slowly withering,
But not giving up,
My warm touch,
Awaiting everyone in the morning,
Giving a nudge – “Get up, silly!”
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With eyes closed,
Things can be vividly seen,
Memories,
Through life They are collected,
And within the mind recollected,
Again and again,
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Monday is the star,
That leads the rest,
A parade that’s eternal – repeating,
The time lives on –
Work chores responsibilities –
Until it’s Friday and for a second,
it stops.
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The momentum of the storm,
The thunder raging on –
Clouds cover the horizon,
The darkness corrupts the sky,
These shadows collide –
Until it’s over,
And light pierces the sky.
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Laugh! Laugh all you want,
It’s healthy for you,
After all.
A chuckle and a snicker,
Nothing better brightens the world,
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I saw it!
Over there by the light,
A very hideous sight.
The puppeteer of the mind,
Within the bouquet of withered flowers,
Lonely souls it devours,
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An hour or two later, a stream of water flushed down the gent’s head, waking him up. Victor was standing over him with a water bottle.
Victor’s shoe was gone and in its place was a thick bandage. He swallowed painkillers dry. “What did you do with the money?”
“Lots of things.” The gentleman’s voice was feeble. His head jammed pack with all the mishaps of his life.
“Be precise!”
“Take the remote. Turn on the TVs.”
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The silent corridor of dreams
Stillness that lingers in the air,
A powerful moment,
Sensing the might of tranquility,
A looming nothingness with a purpose,
It evokes thoughts,
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