Again those shouts are ravaging my ears, Sucking the peace out of my sleep; Numbing my body, wetting my pillow; Again. Days pass in the dread of the night, And the nights pull the curtain to cover it's darkness even more; Again. How can I turn my deaf ears to the thunders, those shadows and those whimpers? That gave me sleepless nights when all I knew was- "Everything will be fine in the morning"; When innocence was in ignoring what happened last night. Many mornings have passed since then, And few nights too, when it was not all gloomy. Thinking, that was the end to it, I quietly turned my back and took the step forward. But again, it knocked at my door! Like a black soul hidden till now in a white wrap! They say, time heals everything But, my time, it seems, has lost its track Or has never moved at all... Like a still tree at the riverbank, I stand, again, helpless Watching the time pass by Without bringing that dawn on me When everything was supposed to be alright. Now, I know, dreams really do come true.
Time is dripping slowly from its glass chamber. Starry liquid of purple void, staining my wooden desk. I should clean it up, but I can't stop watching. The sharp edges from its broken case, creating points from which to fall. Its dark beauty, contoured by the gentle light of my desk lamp. It doesn't sink into the wood, it just sits in its smooth liquid bubble, eternally. Its effortless perfection is the only thing I concern myself with. This serene experience, a small Nirvana within the chaos of my life. I must go. I must study. I must crawl through the expectations of my existence, a small nobody. But existence can wait. I only wish for this moment. A small glint of beauty in a monotonous reality. The most perfect storm, a peaceful dream.