More irrelevant than baby’s blabber, stupid causeless like
actions of some toddler
Or meaningful predetermined and thoughtful, set of events
leading to a destined outcome
Complex serpentine leading to nowhere, full of mirages where
nothing is in real
Or simple straightforward and accurate, where arrow has no
option other than hitting to its target
Haphazard unpredictable and lawless, where every event is
ruled by the chances
Or calculated strategic and formula driven, as if it’s
created by some mathematician
Ah that’s life, a series of strange events, has no meaning
but still sets the stage
The moment we think we’ve figured out the plot, everything
changes to make us to feel lost…
Lost in a jungle, fierce and cruel, the only real emotion we
might feel is a sense of competition
Angels may come, suddenly from nowhere, but we can’t be
happy as they may not be real
Fickle volatile and superficial, some relations evaporate
like oil floating on the river
Some are like the sky, always with us, no matter our
location no matter the status
The sky may just be an illusion, picture of the past—a
memory hitting to our vision
Vision of the mind might be accurate; the gut reaction only
sometimes fails
Comedy tragedy thriller or mystery, jumping across the genre
without any warning
A strange creation by some awful stubborn poet, ah that’s life,
we can’t love or hate…
Covered with thorns or flowers or both, it’s a bizarre path
to walk on
With Flowers capable of turning into thorns, and thorns
capable of becoming our allies
Ambition focus work and efforts, may or may not bear the
fruit of success
Sometimes just letting go is what that is required;
sometimes it might hit the face
Sometimes faith saves the day; sometimes it’s the cause of
death
Nihilists might just embrace some cause; devotees might get divorce
from their god
Ah it’s life, maybe it’s not meant to make any sense; what
surprises me most is the drive to sustain
Maybe it’s the hope forcing us to keep on turning pages;
maybe it’s the curiosity for what’s next
Where it’s going, directed or flowing or is it stagnant this
being my ultimate destiny…
I’m waiting to see, dreaming hoping and living, just as a
main character of some awful poet’s script
