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THE MASQUERADE

The wishing well longed for the coin, the true one lone tossed high. Some just tricky to fall right through, whilst their lay behind one… prized by the imps…

Alike the serene water gliding down the mount, there are plenty of souls open to countless readings… yet heap of others closing their space blocking our gaze.
Their secret fills the air... deceiving you in a hundred thousand ways. As in no one knows the truth, the obviousness of the fake you. Have a look around, the life... the people... nothing equals the water, not even the drops that lie in the foothills. They wait along for the perfect time to hit, with bait so faultless to doubt. A face hard to find, or searched less behind the games played.

It resides in you, me and all the spirits... behold, familiarize through the hymn of the wayfarer …for the stories he saw defines it better. The vagueness lie deep down, yet the silken lines smarten it. It’s hard to hold to myself now as even the smiles carry a tinge of pretense. The ‘make-believe’ stance luring the chastity of people… reminding me of a time when even feelings had its own color. Naive ones without glittery crown of posh traits, but in all that rested a raw sweet color of realness. Nonetheless the randomness of life reflected in these raw emotions unlike the tinted face craving for attention.

                                                                          Moments did laugh, cried, tried, gave up and died …   catching each breath right after the puff. Long gone sequence of genuineness … stacked beneath the happening yet droning way of life. 

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