It's All Crimson. The Way of the World.
Lakshmi Chandra S
Manager, Learning and Development | Corporate Communications | Certified NLP Practitioner
Mutual respect is a fossilized past. Waiting for a glimpse of humane concern is waiting for Godot. Unconditional love is a mere illogical stone age concept. Integrity is a mere farce construed for precise devious reasons. Every helping moment is an epic ballad penned for some rare emotional fantasies. The thought of a fellow being prosper is the darkest possible holocaust to descend.
A look of compassion only entails a concrete practical need being answered. A hand to hold only entails a call of tempestuous pleasure being acknowledged. An arm to hug only entails a callous material agenda being rushed to climax. A kiss of love only entails the momentary overpowering urge to bring down a fleeting heaven of euphoria.
The world is morphed beyond recognition. Thoughts transmuted to incomprehensible dimensions. Man is far removed from being a man.
Penning down intense emotions, never expecting a new dawn of change for the next generation that holds my arms. Voicing thoughts never to proclaim that you just stepped down from an alien word to behold the utter human sham. Penning down intense emotions rather to effect a catharsis perhaps.
Striking the keyboard to rather to step out in pride for being different, thinking different, and ensuring that this difference keeps rising over the perils of being different. Being Different by being right. Being different by being humane. Being different by believing in love.
Catharsis. Purgation.