A story I carry, of a singular day,
Of a plot less life, and a somber play;
A wooden visage, of lead and grey,
Of a molten hearth and oaken clay;
A tune to sing of a broken say,
Of the solitude of the sylvan may;
A night so long and twilight grey,
Of them gone, naught but dreams stay.
The roses wilt but a thorn will die,
Behold the day; your god's will lie.
Of what you write I know not friend but i can just say that you are the one to be blamed for the situation.. a guy can be arrogant upto a limit till all his closed and loved ones can tolerate.. but as soon as you cross that limit you are the one only one standing there with just your solitude leaving all the rest of your loved crowd to the other part.. beware of that as well as try not to make it happen..
ReplyDeletetry ??
ReplyDeletewe all have our islands and our limitations