Sunday, May 22, 2011


Memories are treacherous,
allusive at will,
unrecallable at leisure.
I have experienced perfection,
and I am too scared
to surrender it to memory.
So, I try to give it words,
I give life's perfection
to Art.
Reality is not always kind,
and then turning
to Art
becomes a necessity.
It comes naturally
to define life
through Art.
Highest epiphanies of life
deserve a remembrance.
And that rememberance,
is through Art.

I am groping my vocabulary for words to describe how I feel right now. Maybe, now is not the time. Language too can be a bitch sometimes.

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