the waves are flat they forgot to dancethe waves are tired and numb
the sea is silent
and up in the sky
there are no birds in sight
it's high noon, the sun is hot
the sand is burning my soles
the sand is shifting so fast
that
as i look back
the shadows
of my foot prints
behind are gone
blown by the sudden gust of wind
covered swiftly by the wicked wind
until
no remnants of me
no remembrance of me
no shadows of my foot prints
all are gone
not even a single sight of print
not even a tiny space is left
not even a dab of dust
nothing remained
just shadows
housed in my shifting
and lost memory...
laughs, kinda sad string of words...from dust we came...to dust we shall return...reminds me of holy week, sort of...the passing of life, whether we like it or not. young or old, it does not matter...like life, the wind is harsh sometimes :)
thanks to all the artists whose works have made my entries here shine brighter...it made a garbage smells good so to speak, pardon the metaphor, laughs. oh well. and that is blogging, everything goes...as your mind flows...as the typos and the errors roar. gosh!
