i tire my handsfrom nadir, to epitome
a journey toward home
where my soul waits
sans waiting, sans frets
churning words from sands
i walk this road
to tell a tale already told
my sun feels light
makes letters shine bright
i write to be heard
to face, not being furred
What brought me here...no longer Is
ReplyDeleteBut here I am
What brought me Life...no longer lives
But I live on
My soul's gone, sunshine blurrs
But I strive on.
Longings, memories, eternities: nutshelled into nuances of expression. Forgotten insinuations and minimalisms that comprise beings, fretfulneses. Desires may heal, though not forever
ReplyDelete@ suji: teh sunshine will never blurr, dotn let it blurr and life is always in the liminal state dear :)
ReplyDelete@ biki: the comment is beautiful again here i say life is liminal ... evolution is the word, adaptability is the mantra, and resolve is the goal :)