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In spite of the lateness of this post, I most sincerely thank all my dear viewers for accompanying me on this thirty day journey, the previous post marking the end of both this journey we have shared and my vacation. As for what the future holds in store for us, it will surely be a
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I still don’t knowHow many of your thingsAre mine,And how many of my thingsAre yours.I guess we’ll have toContend with the fact that,I knew you for a while.And for a whileIs better thanNever at all. – Arsh
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Crossing this world and others,Searching for a version of usWho survived together.But we could never have stayed togetherIn any world that I can concieve.I believe that that’s the tragedy of it,It was inevitable. – Arsh
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The path we followAmong these hunters,Will be our doom.For our hearts are made of clay,And for all our similarities,Theirs are made of iron. – Arsh
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Crimes of passion run amok,Spreading chaos through the land.Yet this bubble of peaceWe have found ourselves in,Remains untouched.We might not live forever,Nor would I ever want to.Yet for the time that I still live,I will spend it with us together,Until death do us part. – Arsh
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In this ballroom,They are bride and groom.But it truly seems,That this arrangement attracts doom.For they are but puppets,Forced to dance on a never-ending stage,So they play their parts to perfection,Praying that someday,Things will change.For whom are you putting on this act?To which great masquerade artistAre you trying to prove yourself? – Maya Desdemona
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Call me around to Your point of view,I’ll sigh and just follow.It’s exasperating,Infuriating,Yet it’s all I know.Taking more and more,I’ve given everything I have,What more do you want of me? – Arsh
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I have never understood the concept of ‘belonging’.How could any thing, Or being of this planet be assigned to anything? Who would decide that? What would it mean to that person? I have noticed that it often becomes a part of their personality, But what is its relevance? What is this ‘belonging’ to begin with? – Maya Desdemona
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Pessoa once wroteIn his Book of Disquiet,That “Only the imprisoned,With the fascination Of someone watching ants,Would pay such attentionTo one shifting ray of sunlight.”At first I begged to differ,Stating my reasoningThat great poets were never once caged,But the more I thought on the matterThe clearer it seemed to me,That the only cage holding such a
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Luminousis 