A race down the lane does thou indulge in,
A lapse; all of a sudden,
Eyes fixated into the abyss; sparkle amiss,
Seeing endlessly, yet lacking vision.
Clouds as dark as doom hover above,
Yielding earth-shattering flashes of reality.
A downpour, so incessant,
A millennial wait commences under the shade.
Fogged lanes; dispersed lamps,
Lie amidst evidences of thee.
Of whatever light's left,
A spectrum of its "true colours" arise.
As the downpour saturates,
The internal nomads are embraced.
With the sun down the horizon,
A thin line separates tempest from the dark.
That very moment, thou is convinced of a voyage.
To the other hemisphere,
Manifesting a star,
That neither rises, nor falls.
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Exploring Known Unknowns
PoetryParadox. A word that is underrated to an extent that we often tend to overlook.That is the web in which man's opinions and attributes thrive. As simple as we sound to be, the context behind it is just as complex. Perhaps, our beliefs change with tim...
