Doing Something

If you squint a little, you would see a figure walking down the same path. There, sits a hermit who tells the old tales to who listens... He says the path is one And yet taken by many You see the potholes Many have fallen in A shadow looked lost and pale Giving up for he sees nothing, There is a child picking pebble To see what's beneath it He tells of the time When battles were decided with swords When word of the mouth Was worth more than gold. The hermit sees the time and keeps the happenings in mind. And he offers to tell the tale to those who stop and listen to him from time to time.

One afternoon he wondered about where he went wrong. He listed out all the events of the past with nothing better to do...   Could it be that point When saying actually felt awful When trying to save something Resulted with nothing at all. Or perhaps it was then When life asked you to choose Presented the valley of green With no clues of what's hidden. No, maybe it was when He thought it was right But turned out double-edged sword Whether you take left or right. Sitting there wondering about what has come to pass proved rather barren. Reminiscing about the what else he could have done was like putting salt on the wound. He realised what is wrong now... That double-edged sword Was rather inevitable He has come to this journey And sitting still only hurts his butt Perhaps it was about choosing And living with the choices He didn't have to have it bright His left can also be right Sitting there, going in loop Will definitely end with unhinged mind For it is not going to bring peac...

There are not enough words to define the emptiness that we feel. It could be anything, from something insignificant to something that is beyond understanding. Nowadays, it doesn't take much to stir the peace of the mind. Yet, what is so disturbingly astonishing is the way that we accept it and remain as the victim for much more time than needed. Regretfully, I am one of the unfortunate souls that have been in this quicksand for a long time now. It is not a tragic story but a common tale of today but as they say "you were not there!". I think this so-called anchor has long stalled my journey and it is time to cut it out because I have chosen the wild tides than the deadly quiet peace. Hence, I have decided to tell... I have picked up the shovel started filling with the old tales one by one it will go till I am done with this grave  dug for me once by my own misery and mistakes as I have learned that it is not my day. But I will honor you with the gr...