The man walked toward the desert, with no belongings. As i tried to stop him, before he steps into the arid lands, He said: Nothing waits for me here, Nothing makes me happy anymore, Nothing to support my life, so i leave the world I lived before. How he stands in the scorching sun, is a gloomy subject of admiration. The only pledge he makes is: may he end before the drylands do. And I do nothing more, than watch him move ahead, With his arms open to destruction. Thoughts.....hmmm.......where they can go!
you reaaly dont seem to me a person who writes more ...but dont knw why these days ? anything special ?
A turbulent mind always overflows its bank like a flowing river, and my mind is more like a landmine these days, life coming up with the most horrible shocks of my life ever.....both personal n public :'( so I dont write, it.....er....ummm.....just comes out!
thankkkkkkuuuuu...... u're like my only friend these days, read what I commented to that 'contemplating in solitude' poem.......
