Saturday, June 27, 2009

Chaotic circles

Caught in the chaotic circles
She sits back and enjoys the show
Remorselessly she rejoices
In this melodrama that she so blissfully put together,
Piece by piece it unfurls,
The mysteries untold, she holds
Now it’s a tragedy, now a comedy…
Her life is every drama ever conceived
A patchwork of half-written metaphors,
A mélange of half-brewed potions,
She fills it with her whims and fancies
And makes it her own
Originality is but an illusion!

It goes up, it goes down, never a plateau
It churns within, it burns without
A pauper walks by, and it turns upside down…
All the sages and all the saints
All the madmen and all the maniacs
Watch silently as her life corrodes…
Smug in believing that she perishes
Under the torrent of their caprice
Unaware that she sits beside them!

Now she knows how she feels,
Now there is nothing she feels,
Now the words are hers,
Now the words are just letters,
Neatly tailored together…
But incomprehensible,
Just like herself!

Does this fiasco of sentences have a meaning?
Does it have an end?
There isn’t one in sight,
For there wasn’t a beginning…

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