Scribbling:
Tragedy of wanderer:
“Love always found solace in the bosom of death, but he insisted for
it to be exhibited with life for once but only to make a mockery of its
lonesome figure amidst myriad of shadows passing by who ridiculed and accused
him of treachery, while he stood there in chaotic silence unable to fathom his
own tirades of questions. He had just witnessed a humiliating showdown with
hate that he lost and how, oh! Only if he could realize there always lurked
animals hidden in bright light of days preying upon such vulnerable ones, who
find themselves broken and fallen at the end of such failed exhibition upon so
called animated life. He felt to drown himself in a glass of oblivion with a
faint hope that probably the night would let him hold her once more forgiving
his such imprudence towards darkness. Darkness for it always gave him a secret
taste of death and he scribbled his musings off its visage. Alas!
No comments:
Post a Comment