reality Is Life, But Life Is Not Real...

Poem By mehul sundip vithlani

Words beaten out of the frozen mouth are never remembered.
Memories as lovely as the moment when all sunflowers spring out in summer luxury are always thrown back into our knowledge luggage.
Songs are never remembered for a lifetime but memorised for sometime.
Money never stays behind but the reputation and the name that you carry as your prestige always sits near your doorstep as a welcome mat until death.
Love pulses your nerves and picks at your soul reminding you of the sorrows that your life holds at as a burden.
Your eye blinks at every note the wind peaks,
Your ear reacts to every sound that echoes and picks on your drum,
Your nose rubs the scent, aura and dust filled within the air,
Your heart bats, every second or so, your red-rose blood around your body,
Your limbs groove at every step that you are made to craft.
But all these die out with fun when all your senses are blinded and when you enter the most valuable place on earth, where there are unfulfilled dreams, desires and aims…
When light all around you dies out, only your soul leads you to the right direction.
The only reality is- beginning- middle- end- and then comes the freedom of your enslaved soul when it breaks through those bars of your beautiful but unreal body!

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