6/1/2010, Wednesday...
On a seething street of an old city..
a lonely heart, subsisting on his levity..
walked through the gregarious crowd..
with his inside, draped in a shroud..
Illuminated by the brightest sunshine,
and embellished with phony looks..
All the chapters of that book..
were printed in black..
All the strings of that guitar..
were temporally slack..
A thousand eyes he looked into..
A thousand eyes looked into his..
Those iridescent glances, in the human fair..
ended up as an insipid affair..
With some blots on his soul,
a consciousness, with some unpaid toll
and, with a phlegmatic demeanour,
of a forlorn lunatic,
that desultory heart - dark and stark..
left without leaving any mark..
.......without leaving any mark......
I don't know what 've i written and why 've i done that. I don't know if anyone can ever interconnect my sporadic thoughts.I don't know if someone will ever try to. But do i care ?? ... i never did... and i still don't...
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