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Yesterday, a funeral and a spectator
A ball rolling and the player is static thinking about the contact he had had with it and the love that made him gelled with it. Player is out of the game as new one has arrived and the ball is rolling in his court… the funeral of the love between the ball and the player where there is no attendant to shed a tear but the one spectator across the river that is far too wide for her to cross as suspicion and ruthlessness is too deep and realization of love is nonexistent.
Here I am after having myself traveled nearly 5000 miles on land and air to find a new life, in the city of Joy but still can’t get enough of the pain while knowing very well the fact that life has moved on by everyone else. What can’t be found in the daylight will never be found in the night and the old saying that “Loved ones should be set free as they can never go too far from you” has proved itself once again as I see the ball changing the court and the player forever and rendering me out of the “game” forever.
Though I am decided by the fate to move across the carnality of my self imposed illusion what I still term as Love, I am still waiting on the court for the glimpse of the ball as it is the life blood of the player. An unfortunate son, a fallen lover and a player out of the game is still unable to leave the side of the river while the funeral pyre is slowing turning into pile of ashes destined to reunite with source of its elements.
Being orphan is the most gruesome tragedy that can ever be inflicted on someone, as time and space freezes in relation to someone who has no relatives in one way or another. I am static while the rest of my surrounding is moving, I am beyond relativity and I carry eventless horizons. I wish that one day a piece of darkness that I have been plunged into will eclipse the arrogance and might of the sun which seems to be shining forever.