Heavy sighs... Hurrying Life... Heart wrenching happenings... Melodies of yesteryears... Oh, how can it be thinkable to term it or throw it aside into yesteryears? Since when did it make sense to talk sensible, when the same senses and sensible talk went fishing while delivering the betrayal? If I lay claim on what is rightfully mine, how does a b@stard's daylight robbery and an uncouth rascal's decision make sense? Everything is flying past so fast. Where is the guarantee for my lost years and Life?
Just as wild as my thoughts run, can I send a socket wrench to make a perfect description appear on the headlines when two or more heads have been...... Rage! I can kill quickly if I choose to unleash the beast within. But, can they just sin and attain salvation so easily? That's why they have not lost the ability to breathe yet. I wish to incinerate and pulverise these creatures. I wish to fish my Life out of troubled waters and sail on whatever turbulence this world throws thereafter.
Who has to come to sense for asking what? Do you infer? And, where were your senses when some filth lay claim on my everything? Almost a year has passed since you uttered those words about coming to sense for saying that statement. Life is not a chapter of mere slavery nor is it a chapter of only suffering.
A never ending cycle spanning rage, wasted time and effort to calm down, trying to fight the tide and manage a ride, ending up sitting still avoiding an outburst of fiery emotions at you. At least some has to vent out before it creates an uncontrolled explosion. Hence, this tirade here.
I created memories to parade through our oldage with pride. I wonder what is oldage now? Nothing makes sense anymore. No action or reaction is sensible. A sense of heaviness, surrounded by emptiness, surviving nonetheless. Ending this piece with an apt sound track. *playing Pesugiren pesigiren from Saththam podaadhey* -rPhoenix
No comments:
Post a Comment