The day of the old
A day for the old
A day to remember
A day for reverence
...
I am a dream
Which he carefully
And beautifully crafted
In my sleep and wakefulness
...
Experiments and trials
The wind would have known
Explanations and Illusions
The moon would have known
...
Love to be around with those who speak less. Love to be alone for a long time. Silence as it is pronounced conveys more than of any written or unsaid poems...)
The Day Of The Old
The day of the old
A day for the old
A day to remember
A day for reverence
Old not weak and stagnated
Stagnated but not lazy and lethargic
Not the time consuming muted notes
Why not...
When the food of ocean,
Imagination, the men
And their beauty and beast
Why can't it be better
Don't know it's limitations
It's unhealthy misuse of time
As many knows how to use it
Not just the crows and vanished memories of deads
The black
The dark
The disastrous has it
The make up of the stagnated deads...