hubli 30th december 16:08

un/intentionally harrowing & bewildering

the charades of the charlatans

the escape of the convicts

the ink of the writers

the voice of the voiceless

the hunger of the urchins

the straits that lead home

what is the homecoming that is often evoked:

in words, in dreams and in hope.

it is the last breath that we owe death

and try to prolong the meeting.

“homecoming” will never come to be.

just as gratification will never equal happiness.

just as consumerism will only consume us.

just as what i drink drinks me.

pleads the sailor to the ocean

“guide me through the night;

don’t let me die tonight.

may i not be drowned in this ever blue i see

before i see sun light”

the water behaves as it should

apathetic to our special midnights

and takes delight in consuming those

that ask mercy for their plight.

may he that has not betrayed his soul

sail beyond the horizon to shore

for he is the minotaur.

the acts of life shall be played along

and we’ll sing our lungs out

till the swan song

making good on our practice

we’ll pretend to love the cascades

hang our lives on the walls as tapestries

binge watch our childhood memories

jump on the hamster wheel

hoping the wheels fall off

and in between the passage of time

we shall actually live and not just survive.

live; like the gods that were promised.

and not just in the delusion of a god complex.

but in living colors: full of heart & tears.

hallucinating on the beauty of the world

and delighted by the wonders of it

laughing at the mundanity

and moving on from the special days

finally knowing that the answer

was always there

the search was of finding the question.

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