Tuesday, December 07, 2004

How bizarre

I dreamt. Both were there. Like in real life. So real, so precise. Maybe I had been thinking too much. Seriously, I think too much at times. Where I saw a future that I disliked. So, I got rid of it. But I was reminded again; saw glimpses of the future that I might have missed. No. I am not sad. It's not that great anway. In fact, I am working hard not to meet that sort of future in the near future.

Blue is the path,
Red is the light that is shining on it,
Black is the shadow falling,
White is the reflection,
Which keeps on calling.

Soft is the music,
That fills the blue path,
Which keeps on playing.

Stern is the voice,
That came upon,
Which keeps on ringing,
Move on.


At 10:55 AM, Blogger pinksinatra said...

nice *grin*

At 4:32 PM, Blogger Kumaran said...

Mic, I know the dream. The poem makes it altogether more vivid. Move on mic, move on.


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