Time drips away
Like little drops of monsoon
One less wet leaf
Like the mirages of summer
One more singed twig
Heaves my dreams
Like the distant chills of winter
One less quivering green
I take one more step into the fray
Oblivion is all I see
Yet I still walk that way
Anxiety about the future and death for a human is inevitable. We know we walk towards it every day. Our time and parts of us are left behind bit by bit, leaf by leaf.
Disturbing as the thought might be, unbearable to some, not thinking about it and hiding in our fog, I believe, is like committing philosophical suicide.
More often than not we close our eyes and fabricate our own philosophies to tackle oblivion. It’s too hard to face the truth. Every culture weaves their own stories. Heaven and hell, rebirths, afterlife in some form or the other. Whatever the truth may be; all we know for sure is that we live through memories of people who we touched in our lives. The crumbs- of you, that you left behind.