The absurdity of staying awake
all night
when dreams have long given up
on your days
Unheaved slumber eager to engulf
remnants of the rainbow
arching past the horizons
of pragamatism mundane
A puddle refusing to give way
to the sea
lost in the tempest
of the eyes inundated
The helplessness of drawing breath
when life has long
given up
on the next moment
A day cast past the last
as yet another plods along
without a whisper
of the footsteps careless
A sojourn trudged
blindfolded on intent,
Rid of destination
before it even started
Lest one sees the stranger
in the face
staring off the mirror
hung on the walls of the days
Dates and days,
months and weeks,
year after year
will continue to wear
the guise of significance
So long as it stays
relevant and chic
to question
the meaning of life
as one sips
philosophy
with gingerbread
for the evening tea
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