Short lives have years of experience through their own adventures; such is the perfection they have wrought in themselves. Alexander the Great and Odysseus matter not when the cold feelings like abuse of today's generation is being boiled over and o...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
Today the rain mourns, as it seeks to wash my weakness away, The calamity I stumbled through mocks me. And after every passing second of reminiscencing his artifical amiability breaking through all those days, with not the slightest crack shivering, I recall patching it up with an oblivious gesture.
Now I believe the blame lies on him, For I'm a human too; I've the will that can be torn after watching two brothers fight; Twenty-five years of friendship shrinking into the vacuity we all shall someday blindly fall into.
Because I never had any hand in this, So why should I be the one to suffer? I can't let another Storm, Or an edge of an obscure cliff, Or a burning chasm abrade the remainder of the ruins I call life.
By: Shaily.K
***
Footnote: So, I have heard that real experiences have a great impact on our thinking process, our ability to process life. Hence today, whatever the poems portray has its origin from my life. I can only say that I was very much attached to one of my professors; he was my father, literally.
We never had any heart-to-heart talk, but we both knew each other's worth. Since my family never played the essential part, he substituted them. Suddenly, one day, he left the teaching institution (where he was a partner), and resolved to never return. But somehow he felt guilty for leaving us in our last year, and he came back to teach us, only us, to the end of high school. The period between his departure and arrival was...agony.
The reason of his leave was his other partner, between whom a fight occured. 25 years of friendship went waste.
