Saturday, August 29, 2009

The mirror

The bubble had to burst
to let the guiding light reach us
arranging strings in a commotion
dreaming of unicorn in a fuss

Made to walk on a sword
an idea so fulfilling
kept following the mirage
amidst relations whose taste kept on dwindling

dreams of fire scare us
fire gobbling mirror being a friend
what do we set to achive
achieved nothing but the godsend

a facade of success
adorns the meaning of our lives
but no more than a hermitage
where loneliness does the high-fives

the days await us to goof up
and the nights ready to oblige
nothing could we learn from life
what we could have been will only be a surmise

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