It’s the everyday life,
Synching the rhythm of unglamorous humdrum to
the fleeting seconds.
Looking through the mesmerizing second to
realize,
It’s gone for long, never to return.
The same cup of tea, to the familiar music of
commuting traffic,
The walloping paper stacks, and clickety-clack
of the typing computers;
Deciding fates of abject;
Bestowing no choice, among the doomed
alternatives.
The damp Tuesday evening, the avaricious breeze
blowing through,
The hustle and bustle of the pullulating city,
Drives me closer to tranquility;
So eirenic, yet symphonizing obliteration.
The nothingness in the euphemistic moments,
Defines the deterrent example,
Life is to be lived in the instance;
or you’d long for the ordinary mundane.
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