There in the middle of the day you sit, staring, trying to subterfuge the cacophonic puerile, ineluctable though might they be, scream that might serve catharsis. Nay , spook ain’t me. Dour seems to be all. All is not all. Palliate extenuate as can’t I deign to spite thine. Ache abut abound. Swirl the nape. Butt the ache. Rake ya will to Jake. Live for a sake. Sake that keeps ya wake. Need a break? Besot with wine and song. But, not for long. Day doesn’t long for ever. Every day added only make thy life.
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2 comments:
Dei ithellam neeye than eluthuniya... illa ethachum bookla irunthu vuruvuniya???
yellam sontha kaduppu thaan
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