February 4, 2011

Memoirs

The morning.
The yearning.
The futile attempts at conjuring some fatal elusive respite.
The trepidation.
Light fades.
It's evening.
And then, it repeats, in the reverse order.

4 comments:

  1. when morning, we yearn for a good day and respite from the troubles, and at night we yearn for the next day without the troubles.. atleast, thats what I think u r saying! well written!

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  2. That's not exactly what I had thought. Well, a poem can have multiple interpretations.

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  3. i think its just the challenges of lives.. be it day or night

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  4. Life is a monotonous repetition of events.Nothing much can be changed.

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