Friday, May 27, 2011
Friday, December 25, 2009
SellihcA's GOODBYE
I know there’s nothing good in goodbye, But I have to say it..because it has to be said..in saying it, I know, I would be breaking your heart..as well as mine..
As I was setting on this gray bench..the air is getting colder…i tried to see some other colors around me except blue & gray…but no, there’s none…the sky is still blue..even the leaves that used to be green are now gray..the dust, the sand, the desert sun had turned them ochre gray…
..and this park that was animated with laughter..is now empty..only me & my shadow inhabit it at the moment..where were you..you who’s presence never failed me, even in my dreams…now this vast empty space in front of me..extends within me…
I am condemned to loneliness..even if I tried to reach-out..to the specter of your presence..because you’re not there..Occasionally I hear your laughter cutting through the silence..even the scent of the flowers, I have mistaken to be your scent..
And now, I thought I tasted salty rain..no, it’s not rain..it never rained in this deserted park for years..not even yesterday…I never thought of it..that these drops looking like corn kernels were from my eyes…no they’re not mine..or so I thought..how could tears replace rain that had been absent for years…no they’re not mine..but my mouth felt salty..every time I close my eyes..it used to be sweet, when it touches yours..but now that sweetness is gone…
I was hoping..that when I walked away from this bench, I would be seeing a mirage on the horizon, where you would be there, walking along the shore, near the vastness of the blue waters..and your laughter cutting the air ..while those silky hair floats on mid-air dancing with the bandana that tries to cover it because it was envious…
I have to say goodbye, because in doing it, it would do you good…Your tangled heart would be free…free to beat for whom it will..i love you but I can’t love you…my heart can not shackle your heart with a love that only serves itself…for then it wouldn’t be love..how could it be love if it’s passion strangles your heart and stop it it from beating..so goodbye now..even if there’s nothing good in goodbye..goodbye…
As I was setting on this gray bench..the air is getting colder…i tried to see some other colors around me except blue & gray…but no, there’s none…the sky is still blue..even the leaves that used to be green are now gray..the dust, the sand, the desert sun had turned them ochre gray…
..and this park that was animated with laughter..is now empty..only me & my shadow inhabit it at the moment..where were you..you who’s presence never failed me, even in my dreams…now this vast empty space in front of me..extends within me…
I am condemned to loneliness..even if I tried to reach-out..to the specter of your presence..because you’re not there..Occasionally I hear your laughter cutting through the silence..even the scent of the flowers, I have mistaken to be your scent..
And now, I thought I tasted salty rain..no, it’s not rain..it never rained in this deserted park for years..not even yesterday…I never thought of it..that these drops looking like corn kernels were from my eyes…no they’re not mine..or so I thought..how could tears replace rain that had been absent for years…no they’re not mine..but my mouth felt salty..every time I close my eyes..it used to be sweet, when it touches yours..but now that sweetness is gone…
I was hoping..that when I walked away from this bench, I would be seeing a mirage on the horizon, where you would be there, walking along the shore, near the vastness of the blue waters..and your laughter cutting the air ..while those silky hair floats on mid-air dancing with the bandana that tries to cover it because it was envious…
I have to say goodbye, because in doing it, it would do you good…Your tangled heart would be free…free to beat for whom it will..i love you but I can’t love you…my heart can not shackle your heart with a love that only serves itself…for then it wouldn’t be love..how could it be love if it’s passion strangles your heart and stop it it from beating..so goodbye now..even if there’s nothing good in goodbye..goodbye…
Saturday, October 17, 2009
ON LOVE...IN LOVE...BEING LOVED...
On Love...
Let's put it this way, this is not an attempt to add on, to what the great poets have said on the subject. One can read John Keats, Elizabeth Barrett Browning and the rest of the English romantics, to get the feel, on what this thing is all about...or is this a thing or an abstraction..? or an emotion? but emotion is also an abstraction...Nor is this an additional take, on the exposition of Paul (the apostle) on the subject, in his letter to the members of the early church in Corinth. The 13th chapter of this letter is so sublime, it's oft-quoted by those who know or feel, what this thing or abstraction is all about...
Then there's the book by Clive Staples (C.S.) Lewis, "The Four Loves", it is not incidental, because the Greeks have four translations of the word 'love'. He stated the different degrees or levels of love..'Storges'.. Philia' .. 'Eros'.. and 'Agape'... Starting with the plain thing called 'affection' or 'storges' in Greek, the most common, the most ordinary relation, between kins always related with presence or familiarity, then progressing towards the loftier level called 'agape' or caritas in latin, described as unconditional love. To ordinary mortals like us, distinguishing or calibrating this emotion according to such scheme is of no particular concern.
There's a saying that loving doesn't involved the brain, it's a heart thing. Intuatively it is usually understood to mean the emotion involved between two humans of opposite gender. And what about the love of a mother for her son or daughter? Is it less lofty or noble than the love between a man & a woman..? It is of a different category. There's no comparison. If we read the poets they too, don't talk much about a mother's love for her child, mostly they dwell on forlorn love, love lost...& the pain of being jilted, cheated & left alone...
The English romantics doesn't have a monopoly on this. One can read the elegant lyric poetry of the Lebanese Kahlil Gibran, or the quatrains in the poetry of the Persian Omar Khayyam, or the intensity of Pablo Neruda...The pulsating beat of a longing heart could be felt in Gibran's "Broken Wings". One can compare the pulse in Browning's "How do I love Thee" or her "My Heart & I"...Love as these writer's penned is universal in dealing with longing & pain, of incompleteness in the absence of the object of one's love...
In Love...&...Being Loved
This is a state of being in that emotion, or if one might call it an abstraction. One can describe it but he/she can't define it..A feeling of bliss in the presence of the object of one's love or a feeling of extreme loss & disorientation when left alone by the object of one's love. The pain is even amplified when the object of one's attention is seen in the company of another, who has replaced her. Remember the saying "No greater fury can there be, than the fury of a woman spurned.." So many were written about crimes of passion because of love spurned, jilted & lost.
A graphic example of disorientation due to jilted love is the semi bio-film by Trauffaut about the daughter of the famous French writer Victor Hugo. The film "The Story of Adele H." tells the story of one woman's passionate love for a man who doesn't even care she exists. The film ends with Adele's chasing of the man that ends in nothing but emptiness & illness, seemingly an unjust ending which leaves one aghast with a dry throat and eyes welling with tears.
Whoever has not read of Shakespeare's tragedy "Romeo & Juliet"...Almost everyone loves a love story with a happy ending, just like Cinderella when she and her Prince charming, rode on a white horse towards the sunset, that's how Walt Disney imagined it, but it's not always true. Not all love stories have happy endings, Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. One can read the story of Samson and Delilah, the love triangle of Guinevere, King Arthur & Launcelot all ending in heartbreak. What about "Love Story" ?, the novel written by Eric Segal. The plot runs like this: Harvard law student Oliver Barrett (Ryan O'Neal in the movie adaptation) falls for Jennifer Cavalieri (Ali MacGraw), a Radcliffe College music student. Oliver's father opposed their relationship, he must finish college, but they went on anyway with their relationship and got married. Oliver got disinherited from his father's will (they're rich) so they started off their married life @ rock bottom (a la Pinoy telenovela), but love finds a way, they managed to stay happy. Tragedy struck when Jennifer was diagnosed with cancer, which eventually took her away from him and Oliver was left alone. Lately, we have "Twilight" by Stephenie Meyer, a reformed vampire's (Edward Cullen) love for a mortal (Isabella Swan). The book plus the hit movie catapulted Meyer to celebrity status and so with the actor & actress who played the role of Edward & Isabella. Love's fulfillment always have some obstacles. Some love stories always leave the reader with a gaping mouth & a craving for a happy ending but it would be stretched out for a sequel..there's no happy ending yet.
The longing to be in the state of being 'in love' is universal. It is the constant desire of any ordinary mortal to be in this state and be responded. This is not always the case. Ideally the stroll should be along a two-way esplanade, but there are times when the walk is along a lonely one-way street. At times the walk is along a darkened alley where the stone paving is rough. To be 'in love' is to risk being hurt, but it is always a given & because of the longing to be in that state, the risk is still worth taking... in our midst, the masochists are not a few...
Who doesn't aspire to be loved? It's what the world needs, not only now..The need is timeless and universal. The Burt Bacharach/Hal David song of the 70's still echo today.."What the world needs now is love sweet love, it's the only thing that's just too little of..." but if one has to love, she might not be responded..but the object of such engrossing emotion is the lucky one, though he may not know it. Even if the one being loved doesn't deserved such, the one who loves, doesn't care..as long as she can go on loving..to love for her, is life. To stop loving is to stop breathing...
In the film 'The Gladiator', when Maximus returned home, wounded to get his family back, he found his Love hanging, lifeless..her breath has been taken away...his, has been taken away too.. He was the object of the daughter of the emperor's love but he spurned her. Would life have meaning without love? "He wounded you deeply?" was the usurper's question to his sister. But Maximus statement is even more painful,"Help me, by seeing me no more..." What will happen to the heart that beats but the very reason for its beating is gone..?
Loving is unconditional. If there are conditions to love, it isn't love anymore, it becomes a partnership proposal. To ordinary mortal like us, to truly love entails pain especially if one expects to be loved in return, but to great lovers, to love is always a delight, no matter what. To be loved in return is an ideal but this is not always true..Take Guinevere, for instance, King Arthur loved her. Guinevere's response was to love her in her mind, but her heart is with Launcelot. To love deeply is an act of the will. This is the very reason God commanded us to love Him with all our heart, our mind, our strength and our will (Deut.10:12-13)... The very essence of loving is in the act itself.
In the movie "A Beautiful Mind", John Nash's wife loved him without precondition inspite of the difficulty of loving a brilliant man who lost his mind. In the movie's moving ending, when John Nash received his Nobel Prize for his contribution to mathematical modelling, he dedicated the recognition to his wife. Without his wife's total devotion to him, nobody knows if Dr. John Nash would be able to come back to normal life. This is love, without precondition, beyond explanation.
To love deeply is to be brave, to be always true, to be always prepared for pain, even to the point of being a masochist (if we are to borrow some people's adjective), yes even to the point of death..."perfect love casteth out fear" (1 John 4:18). Some have stopped loving because of the pain reaped while in the act of loving but the joy has also stopped..while the pain reverberates within. When one continues to love, even if unresponded, even the mundane becomes meaningful, and pain goes into oblivion...When one loves, even the darkest of dark spaces, become light and even if in chains, there is complete freedom, for to stop loving means to stop breathing and life becomes mundane & dreary, and life ceases to be what it is...
Let's put it this way, this is not an attempt to add on, to what the great poets have said on the subject. One can read John Keats, Elizabeth Barrett Browning and the rest of the English romantics, to get the feel, on what this thing is all about...or is this a thing or an abstraction..? or an emotion? but emotion is also an abstraction...Nor is this an additional take, on the exposition of Paul (the apostle) on the subject, in his letter to the members of the early church in Corinth. The 13th chapter of this letter is so sublime, it's oft-quoted by those who know or feel, what this thing or abstraction is all about...
Then there's the book by Clive Staples (C.S.) Lewis, "The Four Loves", it is not incidental, because the Greeks have four translations of the word 'love'. He stated the different degrees or levels of love..'Storges'.. Philia' .. 'Eros'.. and 'Agape'... Starting with the plain thing called 'affection' or 'storges' in Greek, the most common, the most ordinary relation, between kins always related with presence or familiarity, then progressing towards the loftier level called 'agape' or caritas in latin, described as unconditional love. To ordinary mortals like us, distinguishing or calibrating this emotion according to such scheme is of no particular concern.
There's a saying that loving doesn't involved the brain, it's a heart thing. Intuatively it is usually understood to mean the emotion involved between two humans of opposite gender. And what about the love of a mother for her son or daughter? Is it less lofty or noble than the love between a man & a woman..? It is of a different category. There's no comparison. If we read the poets they too, don't talk much about a mother's love for her child, mostly they dwell on forlorn love, love lost...& the pain of being jilted, cheated & left alone...
The English romantics doesn't have a monopoly on this. One can read the elegant lyric poetry of the Lebanese Kahlil Gibran, or the quatrains in the poetry of the Persian Omar Khayyam, or the intensity of Pablo Neruda...The pulsating beat of a longing heart could be felt in Gibran's "Broken Wings". One can compare the pulse in Browning's "How do I love Thee" or her "My Heart & I"...Love as these writer's penned is universal in dealing with longing & pain, of incompleteness in the absence of the object of one's love...
In Love...&...Being Loved
This is a state of being in that emotion, or if one might call it an abstraction. One can describe it but he/she can't define it..A feeling of bliss in the presence of the object of one's love or a feeling of extreme loss & disorientation when left alone by the object of one's love. The pain is even amplified when the object of one's attention is seen in the company of another, who has replaced her. Remember the saying "No greater fury can there be, than the fury of a woman spurned.." So many were written about crimes of passion because of love spurned, jilted & lost.
A graphic example of disorientation due to jilted love is the semi bio-film by Trauffaut about the daughter of the famous French writer Victor Hugo. The film "The Story of Adele H." tells the story of one woman's passionate love for a man who doesn't even care she exists. The film ends with Adele's chasing of the man that ends in nothing but emptiness & illness, seemingly an unjust ending which leaves one aghast with a dry throat and eyes welling with tears.
Whoever has not read of Shakespeare's tragedy "Romeo & Juliet"...Almost everyone loves a love story with a happy ending, just like Cinderella when she and her Prince charming, rode on a white horse towards the sunset, that's how Walt Disney imagined it, but it's not always true. Not all love stories have happy endings, Romeo and Juliet ended in tragedy. One can read the story of Samson and Delilah, the love triangle of Guinevere, King Arthur & Launcelot all ending in heartbreak. What about "Love Story" ?, the novel written by Eric Segal. The plot runs like this: Harvard law student Oliver Barrett (Ryan O'Neal in the movie adaptation) falls for Jennifer Cavalieri (Ali MacGraw), a Radcliffe College music student. Oliver's father opposed their relationship, he must finish college, but they went on anyway with their relationship and got married. Oliver got disinherited from his father's will (they're rich) so they started off their married life @ rock bottom (a la Pinoy telenovela), but love finds a way, they managed to stay happy. Tragedy struck when Jennifer was diagnosed with cancer, which eventually took her away from him and Oliver was left alone. Lately, we have "Twilight" by Stephenie Meyer, a reformed vampire's (Edward Cullen) love for a mortal (Isabella Swan). The book plus the hit movie catapulted Meyer to celebrity status and so with the actor & actress who played the role of Edward & Isabella. Love's fulfillment always have some obstacles. Some love stories always leave the reader with a gaping mouth & a craving for a happy ending but it would be stretched out for a sequel..there's no happy ending yet.
The longing to be in the state of being 'in love' is universal. It is the constant desire of any ordinary mortal to be in this state and be responded. This is not always the case. Ideally the stroll should be along a two-way esplanade, but there are times when the walk is along a lonely one-way street. At times the walk is along a darkened alley where the stone paving is rough. To be 'in love' is to risk being hurt, but it is always a given & because of the longing to be in that state, the risk is still worth taking... in our midst, the masochists are not a few...
Who doesn't aspire to be loved? It's what the world needs, not only now..The need is timeless and universal. The Burt Bacharach/Hal David song of the 70's still echo today.."What the world needs now is love sweet love, it's the only thing that's just too little of..." but if one has to love, she might not be responded..but the object of such engrossing emotion is the lucky one, though he may not know it. Even if the one being loved doesn't deserved such, the one who loves, doesn't care..as long as she can go on loving..to love for her, is life. To stop loving is to stop breathing...
In the film 'The Gladiator', when Maximus returned home, wounded to get his family back, he found his Love hanging, lifeless..her breath has been taken away...his, has been taken away too.. He was the object of the daughter of the emperor's love but he spurned her. Would life have meaning without love? "He wounded you deeply?" was the usurper's question to his sister. But Maximus statement is even more painful,"Help me, by seeing me no more..." What will happen to the heart that beats but the very reason for its beating is gone..?
Loving is unconditional. If there are conditions to love, it isn't love anymore, it becomes a partnership proposal. To ordinary mortal like us, to truly love entails pain especially if one expects to be loved in return, but to great lovers, to love is always a delight, no matter what. To be loved in return is an ideal but this is not always true..Take Guinevere, for instance, King Arthur loved her. Guinevere's response was to love her in her mind, but her heart is with Launcelot. To love deeply is an act of the will. This is the very reason God commanded us to love Him with all our heart, our mind, our strength and our will (Deut.10:12-13)... The very essence of loving is in the act itself.
In the movie "A Beautiful Mind", John Nash's wife loved him without precondition inspite of the difficulty of loving a brilliant man who lost his mind. In the movie's moving ending, when John Nash received his Nobel Prize for his contribution to mathematical modelling, he dedicated the recognition to his wife. Without his wife's total devotion to him, nobody knows if Dr. John Nash would be able to come back to normal life. This is love, without precondition, beyond explanation.
To love deeply is to be brave, to be always true, to be always prepared for pain, even to the point of being a masochist (if we are to borrow some people's adjective), yes even to the point of death..."perfect love casteth out fear" (1 John 4:18). Some have stopped loving because of the pain reaped while in the act of loving but the joy has also stopped..while the pain reverberates within. When one continues to love, even if unresponded, even the mundane becomes meaningful, and pain goes into oblivion...When one loves, even the darkest of dark spaces, become light and even if in chains, there is complete freedom, for to stop loving means to stop breathing and life becomes mundane & dreary, and life ceases to be what it is...
BLANQUE...
is it possible to think and yet,
there’s nothing that the mind could grasp?
is it possible to say “forget it...”
and yet the mind says otherwise…
and the heart clings to that fleeting feeling,
fearing that it would be gone forever…
in the abyss of oblivion...
is it possible to feel pain,
and yet linger in it,
dwelling in the afterthought,
that if it would be gone,
life is a miserable mess that is bereft of meaning...,
some raised their brows at such masochistic thought,
but could someone blame a heart that lives in such misery?
And yet continues to beat?
how would one compare such flamboyant joy,
and yet deadly and contrived…
pretending to its heart content,
that the zombie within,
is breathing...moving…feeling…
but when night falls, there’s no sky to look up to…
only the pale bland ceiling staring back at those empty eyes…
no tears…the duct is dry…,
the piercing sound of laughter,fills the air…remember!
the joy is contrived,believing that the lie is real…
the life you live is of your choice,
the monastic glared, but the hedonist laughed...
who then has real joy…,
who then has contrived laughter…
is a life of misery better than one with the pretense of happiness..?
pain is the resource of a life truly lived…
and a heart that truly beats…
the wound inflicted to the heart,
could not stop it from breathing…
but the heart immersed in the pretense of laughter,
forgets the meaning of pain…
the bitterness of unfulfilled promises…
the loneliness of being empty within…
why recall the past, when it only brings pain..?
is it not to relive it..?
so that you will know your heart still beats...
but the longing is there…that perhaps,
it will change,and this time it would be better…
but then the past is… the past,
and reliving it for the moment,
will not create a better tomorrow,
because the tomorrow that was longed for,
happened yesterday…is this not pretense?
or is it because you want to linger in the pain that it brings,
so that the heart that begins to be numbed and deadened,
will continue to beat…
and the longing that the reality of joy,
is after all not a mendacity and a farce…
how then is life to be lived…?
should it be full of laughter…?
and be gradually deadened,
by the fear that the laughter,
would soon end because it is ephemeral...
or should it be lived in the innermost sanctum of your soul,
dwelling in the misery of painful mementos of the past…
at the same time,
content with the thought that sooner,
things will change…
and that the joy that had been absent for years,
will be there,with open arms to hug you and clothed your body with warmth…
what was it? how does warm feels?
you have forgotten it..?
for years, you have been accustomed..
to the pavement coldness of being alone...
would it be possible to still find it..?
this joy that they said life would bring?
how audacious can your heart get…but it is!
it is the very essence of living...
it is the only way for you to know that you are living…
when the longings of your heart will be wrecked,
smashed to pieces,
and then you will know,
just like the clown on a walking stilt,
pretending to be above the boisterous crowd…
when his walking stilts broke and great was his fall,
then reality sets in, that it was just for a show…
the heart should go on beating,
despite the pain,
despite the bruises and wounds of unfulfilled longings…
that ran assymptotic to its purported destiny...
it is not anymore contrived,
when the pain is there and you linger in it,
and you feel every second...
the excruciating stab in the innermost recesses of your soul…
there’s nothing that the mind could grasp?
is it possible to say “forget it...”
and yet the mind says otherwise…
and the heart clings to that fleeting feeling,
fearing that it would be gone forever…
in the abyss of oblivion...
is it possible to feel pain,
and yet linger in it,
dwelling in the afterthought,
that if it would be gone,
life is a miserable mess that is bereft of meaning...,
some raised their brows at such masochistic thought,
but could someone blame a heart that lives in such misery?
And yet continues to beat?
how would one compare such flamboyant joy,
and yet deadly and contrived…
pretending to its heart content,
that the zombie within,
is breathing...moving…feeling…
but when night falls, there’s no sky to look up to…
only the pale bland ceiling staring back at those empty eyes…
no tears…the duct is dry…,
the piercing sound of laughter,fills the air…remember!
the joy is contrived,believing that the lie is real…
the life you live is of your choice,
the monastic glared, but the hedonist laughed...
who then has real joy…,
who then has contrived laughter…
is a life of misery better than one with the pretense of happiness..?
pain is the resource of a life truly lived…
and a heart that truly beats…
the wound inflicted to the heart,
could not stop it from breathing…
but the heart immersed in the pretense of laughter,
forgets the meaning of pain…
the bitterness of unfulfilled promises…
the loneliness of being empty within…
why recall the past, when it only brings pain..?
is it not to relive it..?
so that you will know your heart still beats...
but the longing is there…that perhaps,
it will change,and this time it would be better…
but then the past is… the past,
and reliving it for the moment,
will not create a better tomorrow,
because the tomorrow that was longed for,
happened yesterday…is this not pretense?
or is it because you want to linger in the pain that it brings,
so that the heart that begins to be numbed and deadened,
will continue to beat…
and the longing that the reality of joy,
is after all not a mendacity and a farce…
how then is life to be lived…?
should it be full of laughter…?
and be gradually deadened,
by the fear that the laughter,
would soon end because it is ephemeral...
or should it be lived in the innermost sanctum of your soul,
dwelling in the misery of painful mementos of the past…
at the same time,
content with the thought that sooner,
things will change…
and that the joy that had been absent for years,
will be there,with open arms to hug you and clothed your body with warmth…
what was it? how does warm feels?
you have forgotten it..?
for years, you have been accustomed..
to the pavement coldness of being alone...
would it be possible to still find it..?
this joy that they said life would bring?
how audacious can your heart get…but it is!
it is the very essence of living...
it is the only way for you to know that you are living…
when the longings of your heart will be wrecked,
smashed to pieces,
and then you will know,
just like the clown on a walking stilt,
pretending to be above the boisterous crowd…
when his walking stilts broke and great was his fall,
then reality sets in, that it was just for a show…
the heart should go on beating,
despite the pain,
despite the bruises and wounds of unfulfilled longings…
that ran assymptotic to its purported destiny...
it is not anymore contrived,
when the pain is there and you linger in it,
and you feel every second...
the excruciating stab in the innermost recesses of your soul…
Saturday, September 12, 2009
CIGARETTE BUTTS, BEER DREGS & PAIN… – 2225HRS
Like dregs from the drained mug..
The last nicotine sip was gone..
Floating smoke like lamina mist..
Circling phantoms in mid-air,
Mesmerizing…playfully…
Tauntingly…coming back..,
Like the Marah waters…
That could never be drunk,
Because of its bitterness,
Those wrenching memories,
Of past that shouldn’t have been..
Why can’t they crumble..?
Like these…these smoking butts..
Pangs of pain, like spasms of a stitch,
In the mind, or so you thought,
But then it's not there…
It’s in your heart…the twinge.. the pain,
Reverberating…clasping the innermost,
Recesses of your soul…
The last nicotine sip was gone..
Floating smoke like lamina mist..
Circling phantoms in mid-air,
Mesmerizing…playfully…
Tauntingly…coming back..,
Like the Marah waters…
That could never be drunk,
Because of its bitterness,
Those wrenching memories,
Of past that shouldn’t have been..
Why can’t they crumble..?
Like these…these smoking butts..
Pangs of pain, like spasms of a stitch,
In the mind, or so you thought,
But then it's not there…
It’s in your heart…the twinge.. the pain,
Reverberating…clasping the innermost,
Recesses of your soul…
ADRIFT – 2130HRS-THURSDAY*04-09-2008
Like chipped sandal wood
On a dreary…parched dry land
After the deluge, drifting…
Aimlessly…adrift…
On a sea of emptiness…
Tall…gaunt silhouettes..
On the horizon, seemingly
Leaning against the backdrop,
Of darkness…while,
Shadows softly melting away..
Thoughts leading..
To the nowhere land..
Of emptiness…
Gone…gasping…
For its last breath...
On a dreary…parched dry land
After the deluge, drifting…
Aimlessly…adrift…
On a sea of emptiness…
Tall…gaunt silhouettes..
On the horizon, seemingly
Leaning against the backdrop,
Of darkness…while,
Shadows softly melting away..
Thoughts leading..
To the nowhere land..
Of emptiness…
Gone…gasping…
For its last breath...
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