Sunday, April 4, 2010

A letter to a dear friend of mine

Dear friend
Lately ive been thinking
Whilst observing
All the people around me
They all seem to be in love you know
Quite sweet really
But when I look closer I noted
It wasn’t the love I expected
Mirrors held in their hands
A look of admiration upon their faces
They gazed upon their own reflections
Gauged were not qualities here of the human mind
Rather qualities of clothes they adorned
Or contraptions they held, man mades and all
They were in love with people too yes
But it wasn’t the love for the being of the person
Rather for the materials the person contained
Became the important attribute
All these people, do they not realize?
What they look upon with much admiration
In that mirror is but an illusion?
It’s a mask that hides the dirt within us
My friend I tell you
From what Ive learnt in life
That mask is something that does not stay long
Torn it shall be while the grains of sand fall
Or incidents will rip it away from your mane.
God is a player of a bigger game
Riches are what but the very roots
Of a parasite that eats away the soul.
What are we but grains of sand
Unknown to the winds that blow us away with time
What, its not your face or your riches that stay
Do yourself such, you yet remain, alive
In memoirs of others, a soul to prize
I’ll give you memories thus, I have nothing else to give
Nothing I want to take
I live my life as I aught to,
But wait for that wind for me to catch
Nothing’s permanent here in this world
Don’t lose out on those people about
Those who really care
Make memories, for these
Are of value of the highest echelon
Fade will they too in the sands of time
But live a lot longer, than any material
Them, you or I.


there is no such thing as unconditional love. for all i know it exists only between a mother and her child, rather a mother towards her child, for everything else, is a manner of gain.

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