What can be worse than the complete agony of being in love? Yet what could possibly be a more enriching experience? Some of these entries arise out of the euphoria of first love and the rape of innocence; the rest reflect the musings of a more mature poet: one who is compelled to accept the absurdity of the transient world, but has the courage to romance it nevertheless. At times it is not even poetic... too brutal to be so. But therein lay the catharsis: purgation of life’s follies.
Saturday, May 20, 2006
Mon Frérot
All that has been said seems so trifling All that has not shall never be But how do words count? Let silence sing for me my friend My ode to you My swansong
2 comments:
thoughtful words there, you're one of the few poets on the blogsphere who makes sense. keep it up sir.
u seem to have become passionate romeo since u left kgp...inha bhi pyaar ke chakkar mein mat phanso ladke...buri tarah se maat khaoge
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