Memories are our own histories none will ever know. The subconscious self captures the millions of tabs open just like the child, child with a computer with different searches from the coolest plants, animals to insects on earth.
We all hold that in our head,
Right?
If Your head is sane!
You are lying; living' a lie.
History lies in the brain with roads of nostalgic and tragic lanes.
The buildings of memories are on rent with some unwanted strangers while other apartments are occupied with the best of people. There's always a fresh lane green grass at the front and back porch, but the balcony plants are brown and crispy with tender eaves because of scorching thoughts that never leave anyone. 🍂
The chandelier is dull with dust of the storm this dunya holds, while the light it reflects at the darkest nights shows some hope- hope to survive amongst the toughest battles our hearts hold.
I don't live in the moment; always concerned about the future of past clutching onto the past that helps me to drown in sweat and worry. But I'm trying to get into the present, and sometime trying is all we need to survive.
Death is free, so is livin'
But at what cost?
The cost of living in a world full of sham
With your only bridge of truth by Almighty
Where I rarely witness people.
The bridge is long yet appealing
with bright creepers and wild flowers aside.
Let me just sit and sleep
Sleep to remember the moment of death and reality.
Khwab brings the chain of beautiful past
with millions of tabs not being closed at front.
Let it be.
Let it be as it is
Indeed, no one has to worry about Shakespearean wonders
“to be or not to be."
Be!
Just Be.
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