I.
The sea of life
is spread before you.
You have to swim in it.
Not with the hopes of reaching the shores,
But with the dread of not being alive for another day.
II.
The monotony of life
Numbs you to quietitude.
And every time you move,
it hurts.
And so long it takes to come out of that numbness
That you lose every other sense.
In the end,
Nothing.
III.
Life is a long search
For love.
You find it,
lose it,
come across it accidentally.
Destroy it by chance,
Discard it,
Run after it...
It eludes you every time
And yet deludes you into thinking
that you have it.
The long search ends without triumph,
And yet you are happy.
The sea of life
is spread before you.
You have to swim in it.
Not with the hopes of reaching the shores,
But with the dread of not being alive for another day.
II.
The monotony of life
Numbs you to quietitude.
And every time you move,
it hurts.
And so long it takes to come out of that numbness
That you lose every other sense.
In the end,
Nothing.
III.
Life is a long search
For love.
You find it,
lose it,
come across it accidentally.
Destroy it by chance,
Discard it,
Run after it...
It eludes you every time
And yet deludes you into thinking
that you have it.
The long search ends without triumph,
And yet you are happy.
2 comments:
This one is so sublimely realistic and yet poetic at the same time...You know i have thought about it quite often...isn't it strange how our older poems make much more sense than the new ones..Guess we weren't as diplomatic or as bruised back then..:)
True, Varghese! and thanks for reading :)
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