This s how the story goes,
he met her.
She loved him.
They fought.
This is another story,
he and he were brothers.
There's a villain too.
And he took revenge of his death.
There is some tragedy too.
His last stride to save his kingdom.
His last battle.
Its all how good the world we greet,we share, we love, we live ...have stories to tell..
For the people living...and pursuing to live...
To tell their story....for the dead.
To tell the story...
Where singing and dancing and huge sets costs sweaty money...
Whose uncanny stories are shelved.
These perplexed daily
dramas, messages, romance, dimensions of love, tragedies, fiction, cult classics, horrors, silent melodies.
Isn't it us we portray,
try to seek to not being us.
Cluing out distances,
till it becomes us and them.
Stories ...he he.........
-Anirudh Vallabhaneni
YOU ARE READING
Ghazels of Unknown
PoetryLiving in this concrete jungle, I realized these truths and mystery of human mind which played it's part in today's civilization. Dust, glory, war, cyber, social,and the zing and enigma that we all strive. For the lifeless life. Other parts coming...
