E O L

Actions and reactions melt away,
Engulfed by the void of time.
Why care if the nightangle sings,
Saints rant, or the street dogs whine.
Ends a memory at the end of this line.

What if the sun doesn't rise tomorrow,
Paint your dreams on the blank sky,
Let the night sink into its own darkness,
Who called upon the stars to shine.
Ends a story at the end of this line.

A thousand lost cigarette butts,
And their futile wait to be reclaimed,
Dope is gone, so are the shots,
Forgotten are the bottles of wine.
Ends an era at the end of this line.

Above noble souls, and thoughts benign,
Minutes and seconds, by themselves align,
For a bright tomorrow, with a precise design,
The first toast to them, the last one be mine,
Ends this day here, at the end of this line.

Waking up!

And one fine morning,
I wake up to see,
Another new day progressing,
As it ought to be,

I light up ,
The usual morning cigarette,
Coming back to life,
And to terms, with that one secret,

One that I've avoided,
For so long now,
Retaliating all questions,
With one simple 'how'.

Catching a glimpse of the paper,
I take one deep puff,
And smile at the ignorance,
I've shown towards all this stuff,

Unlike the world,
Fussing over how to show,
Am pissed off, knowing,
There's still so much left to know!