I am not morose
Though I choose in blacks n whites
White or black be it what it may
But that what's within should be without
No indecisive, fence-sitting blots of Grey
No wannabe white, dwindling blacks
No wannabe black, grinning whites
They say it's hard to remain what you are within, if you have to keep up with the world.
As days turn into nights I see sparrows turning owls, and all the time playing the martyr.I see everything merging into all else.
You hold a rose and you see a cactus if you bat your eyelids twice, you think you caged a fierce beast, deprive it of the sun, the wind and the rain, and you shudder the next week, when you discover it was only an innocent deer. Not breathing anymore.... you committed the murder you never wanted to.. coz the evil blinded you with the deer skin, gore.
I choose not to be blinded with tears of sympathy or anger or love. When the day of judging or being judged comes, I want to have my eyes open, without the coloured glasses of prejudice or perception, and the memories, I lean on, to be in blacks or whites...
Just a thought.... to me.....
I don't know what's in store , but I know me and that I'll always have me, this very me who is writing this, to face it with.....