Memory Lane..

Posted on 17/03/2011


[How does it feel to go through your past? Do you emerge discontented, or forgiving?]

A tint of maroon
Allures his frail figure
Towards broken glass strewn
Casually. Today blunter.

Each piece fancied
In his black panorama,
To play the impassive lead.
His choices sketched into a genre.

He bent, disoriented,
Setting his eyes
On old days so acrid,
On the assize.

Written down in deep azure,
By his own being,
Refusing to surrender.
He thought of walking

O’er the glasses
To possibly unearth
Amongst the bruises,
A deep buried self worth.

Somewhere, some mirror
Amalgamating these confused colors,
Like a swift zephyr,
Exposing a light much whiter..