Wednesday, June 04, 2008

I live there.

What you called the end of the world is the beginning of my world. That is not just a tunnel locked forever with the darkness gagged in its mouth. I walk there inside. There is that whole world in there. I live there.

Come with a candle in your hand. It’s not like that inn full of candles everywhere. It just needs one light to feel the world in here. It doesn’t take ten voices to hear me speak. Your one word will echo and will be heard more keenly than the trampling hoofs of the horses carrying those men through my world. Too many voices blur out the thought. Too many candles mess the world ...like a painting with all the colors pushed inside it.

Have you ever imagined what the color of peace is like? Do you think it has a color at all?

The party down that lane doesn't fancy me the way the horizon I see somewhere too far for me to reach does.

3 comments:

man in painting said...

wonderful post.
I liked the energy it carried.
Unique.As the writing was also somehow hinting uniqueness.
best wishes....

Saibal Barman said...

"The party down that lane doesn't fancy me the way the horizon I see somewhere too far for me to reach does"
........amazing expressions !
Best wishes,

sid said...

your post are getting very poetic...
very nice [:)]
-Sid