Jun 18 2012 Treading a trodden path The numbers blur and move slightly again feet tired yet unwilling to stop left following right and vise versa while metres reluctantly turn into kilometres A pace steady, the steps mechanical destined to roll till my time is up A winged creature worms into my heart gently carting it away across rigid fences I see the black roses drink in the dew and the chameleon cock its reddish-brown head I hear two familiar voices discuss family finance and the school bell summon the precious holidays Then a smoky train chugs across a few borders leading me to a rain-drenched terrace where a girl twirls round with an absent love her skirts billowing in the evening breeze The whole scenario slowly becomes dark with nightingales crying under soiled bed sheets sleepless vigils and the smell of disinfectant Death looking in from broken window panes I see a lost mind singing behind a locked grill The song carrying me in without any key Weddings and honeymoons follow me around leaving no time to look back at lost worlds The train transforms into a plump aircraft and before I know it , a machine beeps Half an hour on a tread mill and I have travelled around a lifetime I believe. ©Reena Share this:ShareEmailStumbleUponRedditFacebookTwitterLike this:Like Loading...
That was very intensely written….images hurling itself into one another…of those lived and longed for. Reply
“Treading a trodden path | BUTTERFLIES OF TIME” really enables me contemplate a little bit extra. I actually admired each and every single part of this blog post. Thanks for your effort -Henry Reply
That was very intensely written….images hurling itself into one another…of those lived and longed for.
Yes I thought too so, it came to me on the treadmill. Thank you Nadira.
“Treading a trodden path | BUTTERFLIES OF TIME” really enables me contemplate a little bit
extra. I actually admired each and every
single part of this blog post. Thanks for your effort -Henry