Truth & Lie
(👇Poem👇)-
Politika
Last night, I thought about air and seasons. Summer has finally hit the city, just like the riots did a few years ago. Back then, the headlines called it minor disturbances, and soon, it slipped out of print. But I remember—it claimed lives, didn’t it? Or at least, that’s what I think I remember. Someone later said it was all a conspiracy, that nothing was ever wrong. After all, nothing really happens in the metropolis. The air was to blame. It was too heavy with life and breeze. It wanted release, and people left the door ajar.
// Captioned-
The world of deep-coloured fabrications has mauled our ability to admire the hues of simplicity,and in the process,
it has made our lives achromic...-
My words ..My expressions are so intriguing and impressive that even reality gets warped and tangled in its web....
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The fabrication of life compounds is inscrutable and inimitable, but the vitality in it is not enigmatic or privy to text; it is a subtle structure with fringe ingredients on this earth. The layout of living this life means beauty and the flow of delicacy; there should be no contrast or harsh removal. With abandon, life should be a homage to those things. You should not pursue and obsess over your pursuits forcefully; hence, you should not disregard assumptions so that your assortment of actions will be good. It is not an artificial liveliness. It is like a thin thread.
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An amanuensis waifs scribe his compiler aphorism well by being introspective. Being a peripatetic of measurable words, he invests and sews in antinomian, stroller, and vagrant words inside the pages of his wayward creations with composite fertility in serenity and magnificence conformation. Structuring encryption in his fabrication and stiff brain, he is not quitted by derelict musings and deserted in its announcement without any miserable conversation to be verified. This is a tribute to words; he stitches his torn vocabulary together and makes it datum. This is like a password and pawn parole. He can never be speechless or wordless; his voice echoes inside the soul to be researched by him.
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You are tired of chasing upstream,
you have used all reserved energy
available with you. Your intention
doesn't match the fruition. To find
resolution, you go deeper into the
water & you discover who you really
are. You are not the fighter who you
have fabricated yourselves to be.
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