Skill and zeal never die
They are always burried alive
Burried under a coffin called oblivion
Under sand called time
Where I am called the priest

-

If I write sad, doesn't mean
I'm in sorrow
And likewise....
If I write love, doesn't mean
I'm in love
Just because it syncs...
Doesn't imply I'm sunk .

-

Who’s at fault?
You or I,
May be I, being effervescent,
Or you ignited;
Or I bushy tailed, you babbling;
Or I over-tactful,
You, puerile and babyish, or I
Waiting to prove same.

Well I judge both.
For you din't return; and once I mused its vain to wait...
For time is theif;and I was fishing!
Then too late to move, but still done.
Only to realise,
‘I craved to enplane long gone!’
It was too bare, for you left.
Or, it was me ‘hallucinating’
Well, for then I knew none.

And there I fixed my mind
“Let it go”,
Only to bounce, to requite wrong.
Was it ideal? I doubt.
Then to engulf sea of grief.
No, I am at fault!
And in dark I remain ‘how to apologise’
So I write…

For life, I remember this hour of drama….
Now,
After all,
Not as a tragedy, but tragicomedy!

25/01/2016
©babbling_heart

-

There is no idealistic way to live a life

Just 8 billion plus perspectives

So I chose mine

-

2020

-

People

-

Incoming call

-

1895
The Stollen Bacillus.
2020
The Stollen Virus ?

-

Home is best place to be

And sometimes you need to go back to your shell
Not to escape
But to ease

-

Least anything takes to start loving
Owning
Least it costs to lose it's value
Owning

-