Drop by drop, life bleeds. i gather the drops in broken fragments of dreams where they breed the flies of discontent which feed on wounds i inflict on myself. Oozing pus of more discontent.
Stitch by stitch, life unravels. i pick up the threads and try to mend the holes of relations - of heart and blood.
One by one, death snuffs out loved ones. First the brother. Then the father. And you pray that you would never have to see another loved one lying on a bed, unaware of the passing of day or coming of night.
Post by post, i blog. Inane thoughts and laments of a wounded soul.
Sunday, March 20, 2011
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