Galaxies
Like old time chums who must bet on every game, We know that for us, the game isn’t just a game, We even go to the stadiums, faces painted like raving fans, But at the end, all that remains is
Palace Lights
The darkness of the world snuffs the last of the lights out, If only for half a day, the night has considerable clout, But the night is merely a stage for my insecurities to play, A backdrop so tempting, that
Recoil
They had always agreed it was like a crystal, resplendent, And so flaunted it as if it were a diamond pendant, The hundreds of patterns merging in a design so intricate, That they altogether avoided touching it, however delicate. But
Ten Percent
Often, the stories we hear from unfortunate brothers are the same, Stories of loss, stories of failure to keep ahead in the game, Whatever their story, all that seems to change is the name, The rest is simply different shades,
Impetus
Quite often we wake up to the same journey, but a new beginning, Only to see hundreds already sweating from hours of running, You just shrug and start walking, wondering why they can’t sleep, And smile, because sometimes, imagination just