Life a Magic Wand n I'm the Magician

Somewhere down the memory lane I can still hear those voices,

Which used to tell me how life is a magic wand and I am the magician,

How the world can be made to bend on its knees in front of me,

How everything in front of me is the illusion, and reality invisible,

How success can be tasted when I’m drowning in the ocean of failure,

How a ray can be produced from the darkness itself,

Somewhere down the memory lane, I can still hear those voices,

Calling me, to come back and complete my journey I’m destined for,

They still hold the faith, that life is a magic wand and I’m the magician.

It’s been long time since I have been to my destined path,

But the wand is still in my hands,

It doesn’t work now as I’m not a magician anymore,

Life seems to be now simpler, dull and numb,

Things are perceived the way they are seemed,

Illusion is now the reality, the reason to survive.



Getting involved in this world is not tough, but,

Somewhere down the memory lane I can still hear those voices,

Calling out my name, telling me to have faith,

Trying to save me from the sorrow and pain,

Telling me that life is a magic wand and I’m the magician!!

Blindness

Intense are the senses, which never found their way home,

But now they are the gift of blindness, to save me from the dark,

As I lose one , other comes to fill the void!!


Everyone asks me, ‘Do you miss the sunshine, which used to air the fire burning inside you, uplift your spirits when everything seems to be falling apart. Do you miss the sunshine which painted you with gold so that you can stand high and shine with glory? Do you miss your sunshine?’ They went deaf when I started speaking, speaking about that light I meet every day, speaking about that ray which fans my dying embers, speaking about everything I remember about my sunshine.

Now remembering it is more difficult as the days passes. It has become a dull memory, no matter how much I try to hold it coz it’s the last thing left I remember from my vision, the reason of still being alive. They come and go, holding my hands, giving me sympathy, but no one can hear my cries, my tears which are hidden in the soft, cheerful voice which always wipes their tears telling them that

If One Goes The Others Come To Fill The Void !