Floating Laments

They fly by the edges of consciousness,
unending;
mostly without a beginning either.
Some sigh,
while some others cry
Some simply whisk by
some others
smile
with all the tenderness
you've ever known,
and that you will never know.

Floating laments
They sometimes come by...



In my spree of unarchiving, I've been discovering quite a few of these. Some I'll post, some of course, I won't. This is perhaps one thing about writing - the complete right you have over it! heh! - The transient traps of ownership.

At times like these I wonder what is it with unfinished things. Unfinished letters, unfinished cards, unfinished paintings, unfinished affairs, even an unfinished emotion for that matter, seem to rake up, much more in you, than you knew existed. If I detach from personal experiences, it is also intriguing how much perspective it adds. It's like tumbling down a rabbit-hole of feelings, trying to decipher some, some just slipping away in plain sight, some others never there, and some catching you by surprise by their unexpected intensity. 'What happened then?' you begin to wonder. Well Love, Life did!