Barren and cold,
arid and old,
insidious winds,
screaming stories untold;
Buried in the sands,
of these ashen lands,
decaying carcasses,
of castles unmanned;
Where shells lay tossed,
of ones that are lost,
rising tides,
drown all they have crossed;
And oceans deep,
slowly creep,
where castles once stood,
and children now weep;
A wasteland of lies,
just under the skies,
or,
just a beach;
Within our eyes.
By: Viraj Belgaonkar
“Our perception stems from our existence;
Since existence is limited,
so is our perception.”
Beautiful words
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Thanks buddy
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