The prolonging grey days,
Walking through the long grave corridor,
Amidst stinking mortality and morbidity,
Living seems to be sinful and burdensome!
The mortal attire of flesh and blood,
Drives sanity to insanity,
Senses to numbness...
The tunnel is darker, denser and longer,
Tired of expecting to see the light,
Accustomed to chronic darkness...
Fireflies flicker once in a while:
The little moments of hope and joy last too short,
As the fireflies fade away sooner...
Back on dark track,
With a huge screech of reality!
No comments:
Post a Comment