The Race Against Time

Where the breeze sparks the fire, Where you reach for those planes to catch, Where every word is an inspiration, Where the birds aren't shy to sustain. Where life is free falling, Where the doors are always open, Where this morning is a new song, Where they forgot to pause play. Where hearts are made of clay, Where our beginnings meet, Where love is love, Where I can look you in the eye.. And say, Let's just stay..

I'll write about pain and heartache, A broken river infested with plague, A different colour to give, And, a different person to take... I'll write about life, on a slate, But, I'll repeat the same mistake, A clasp on my soul, Fastened to your fate... I'll write about what I miss, And, I won't be lying, A face with no name, Deluded, I'll be fine... When I write, I'll pick a different lane, Will it be me? Or, just another name? And, when you read this, Would it be enough or less? Will it mend a broken heart? It won't, I confess... Nobody to love. Oshan

Written with broken lines, Glazed without spine, Gallowed with turmoil, Still looks benign? Is it a story, Or the shadowed truth? A time to rejoice, Or close a dusty book? Is it the mountain, That ends in depression, Or, a sea of lies, With a thirsty first impression? It's a theory of errors, A notion spelt élan, A chain you made, That will end with pain. Break free. Oshan .