The Mirage

The Comings and goings, Goings and comings

On the beaten tracks,

Facing ebbs and flows of intangible force.

The stasis and flits of dull and dreary world,

Running the race hustling and jostling

From this pole to that post

To run over or be run over.

Dropping the catch and catching the drops,

Believing our doubts and doubting our beliefs,

Thus are we placed on a mirage

Betwixt oxymorons and paradoxes

Knowing nothing permanent except death

Yet are we destined and desired to live

Like toys of wanton boy

With willing suspension of disbelief

I am back

Am back after more than a year or so because was busy writing a book. The book is out and getting good response.