Time is relative, depending on your frame of reference, scientifically and metaphorically too…
Pressed by the transience of existence and relativity of time, I sat down with my arsenal of colour-pencils, colour-pens and my beloved charcoal pencil. There was something deep within that wanted to be expressed, yet with no structures of its own, and so I just let the stream of consciousness just flow onto the white blank paper.
Chained we are to circumstances and time; life a mere resonance in the instable universal waves. The wheel of time and life keeps rolling endlessly, taking with it stopped heartbeats and unspoken words… For it will never cease, it never has…
Letters of my personal diary are now afloat, In the rhythmic cadence of loud thoughts… Unreal, unheard, waiting to be unlocked: Mysteries unravelled…
Like the free falling leaves that shimmer in gold, its glory in that moment of free-fall, Our life transcends its glorious moments in the quietest hours…
And somewhere through my conscience, The rhythmic beat of nature and lifecycle replays in a cycle of events encircling the pupils of my eyes…
Of death and rebirth being the two sides of the same coin, Of arrival and departure being complementary…
Of sometimes, the most beautiful moments, The very reason of the saddest tragedy…
The citadels of nature, also transitory and moments of splendor and ecstasy, only ephemeral. Evanescent waves that blow across each one of us: The very breath each one of us breathes, The only immortal wind That makes us mortal…
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