About the words, yes, they come from the lands distant enough to ever be visible,
While trying to tie the knot between the dream and the reality,
With the once infinite belief withering away from every shower of monsoon rains,
It seems done, the words, the meanings, the logics, the conclusions.
It is definitely pending, to know if its the mind or the heart who dupes,
Knowing we won’t know the lie as the truth is definitely shattering,
Good times may leave many seasons unwatered with some believable reality,
They will come with all their powers to trick you of whatever you once had.
Think deep but not too much to skip a beat, for there is some breath still remaining,
So far, so good it has been, knowing that we weren’t just enough for all there is,
Nothing, as one may call it, believing what this time and place has brought as a gift,
Respecting that it was once we all wanted, accepting that it is here to stay.
There will be talks, lots of them, of our untimely fall, as the sun is set to rise,
There I see. There I am to see.
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