It
is cold, why is it so cold? The warmth of accompaniment could maybe remove this
cold. These clothes are old; they’re
worn out almost torn as the skin shrivels, as he remains conscious thinking how
cold it is and how cold of a person it is making him inside. “Begone! Begone!
He muttered to the self”. The man continues to experience coldness, the books
dampened, some dried and yellowed, ripped and shattered. The stomach growls
haughtily, angry and incessantly demands nurturing. How about some charcoals maybe
even some wool? While all is dull, all else is having a ball; while all is
having a ball, all is in a ball where struggle is just at the corner by the
wall. All dressed in glamour and covered up by a drunken stupor, resisting,
disallowing emptiness to enter.
All is well when there’s detachment at every
stall. Silverwares and gold, encapsuling our goals, driven by ghouls. Relax,
don’t howl, there is no need to throw in the towel. They said, you ought to be
bold, to capture what you’ve been told, put it on hold, don’t listen to what
you’re told, to the old people who are brainwashed by gold, they move to what
they’ve been told. As usual, they remain unreliable. Worldly people always in
denial, their actions always menial, soon the very people they please will come
to disgrace, all these diseases will come to cease, none will continue to
exist. The people we follow are none other than our desires who always demands
to be pleased.
So
cold, where are the trees and the flowers and the cool of the breezes, which
brings calmth and peace in life?
The
girl mesmerizing the world as she walks by gracefully, he is told of her and
goes to witness her only to return sold. His soul is hers. At least for a few
minutes, at least until he lays foot on ground again. The girl lived happy and
gracefully until she felt like giving man a chance to vanquish all curiosity;
then she turned ugly and from that day on, she graced the earth with all kind of
doubts and disbeliefs.
