Wednesday, November 09, 2005

i am nostalgic

the shadows of my past saunter on my backyard, visit me silently at my lonely hours and i allow them into my bed. They humn(sorry if the spelling is wrong) me the song of togetherness, i live my life in those songs.

the hours pass and i am left with the rememberances of a winter noon, where I draw patterns of love in the white bed-sheet, the room is filled with the smell of death. I fancy how the hour of death will be... painfull t leave all the memories behind, then i wonder if Death devoids the dead of memories too. Marichiko had dreamt aimlessly after her death will i atleast not be allowed to take my memories with me. This universe where i was will then be a void...
empty of me and my memories...
I wonder how the day will be.

3 comments:

Siddharth said...

Contemplated death for some time after reading it.

For the first time it seemed to be a shy thing.

Unsure of its gender but it sounds good to call it She

wasted said...

Death comes in red, and smears you with its colour, like your love's smell...

if Death is such a beutifull thing how can it be anything other than a woman...

wanda1234 said...

thanks for sharing....


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