ScriBBles: oF DreAms & Th'OuGht's

Across the kingdom of dream Lies the ground of suffering Reality, a distant canvas Love, beauty, fame and all that jazz. Hammer of life strikes a blow Picture sinks a bit slow Peaks one, seeps at strike Lament who grace, sinks to dike. Might not who stand a hill That who at strike, sheet alike frill Free, frank; open at large They beat with mock at darge. Cruel as may truth portray It's black or white, no shade of grey Rise, fall, build & crumble Naked truth, barefaced lie: so much subtle.

A Minute is all it takes.... It was a beautiful winter morning but the everlasting chill of December made the gravity around my bed 10 times the usual strength. All I longed was for a hot cup of coffee while I stay wrapped up in my red blanket. There was something unusual in that particular morning; the birds seemed quieter and there was hardly any movement outside. The usual noise and bustle of the street had died down dramatically after the episode. A dense mist of tension seemed to hang over the neighboring roads too. It was as if all lanes had decided to cast this eeriness in harmony. Holding the cup of coffee in my hand I waited for the newspaper delivery which normally got home before I got up every morning; which was the actual reason why I hired that agency for my newspaper delivery. The newspaper dint arrive; impatiently I shifted to watch the TV news but all I could see was dense black and white dots all over the screen creating unimaginable illusions and patterns when I got...