( This blog is an attempt to say that sometimes, somethings, just die off....maybe its the actual death of a person, someone's words and promises or even emotions. But its does not matter, because one day, everything that began has to end. I hope I m able to get my point across.)
The long loved goodness and 'joy' died where manhood's morning almost touches noon and this happened while the shadows were still falling towards the west.
While yet in love with life and raptures with the world, this joy passed to silence and pathetic dust.
Yet, after all, it maybe best, just in the happiest, sunniest, hour of all the voyage, while eager winds are touching each sail, to dash against the unseen rock and in an instant hear the billows roar above a sunken ship. Whether in mid-sea or among the breakers of the father shore, a wreck at last must mark the end of each and all. And every life, no matter if its hour is rich with love and every moment jeweled with joy, will, at its close, become a tragedy as sad and deep and dark as can be woven of the wrap and woof of mystery and death.
Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but in the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.
That 'joy' which sleeps here when dying, mistaking the approach of death for the return of health, whispered with its latest breath, "I am better now". Let us believe in spite of doubts and dogmas, tears and fears, that these dear words are true of all the countless dead, be it dead words, people or even emotions...
Conclusion of the journey of the long day is bound to be a night and this fact is no secret.....Every 'day' deserves a night and the biological diary demand a sleep and it is wise to fulfill the demand......
The long loved goodness and 'joy' died where manhood's morning almost touches noon and this happened while the shadows were still falling towards the west.
While yet in love with life and raptures with the world, this joy passed to silence and pathetic dust.
Yet, after all, it maybe best, just in the happiest, sunniest, hour of all the voyage, while eager winds are touching each sail, to dash against the unseen rock and in an instant hear the billows roar above a sunken ship. Whether in mid-sea or among the breakers of the father shore, a wreck at last must mark the end of each and all. And every life, no matter if its hour is rich with love and every moment jeweled with joy, will, at its close, become a tragedy as sad and deep and dark as can be woven of the wrap and woof of mystery and death.
Life is a narrow vale between the cold and barren peaks of two eternities. We strive in vain to look beyond the heights. We cry aloud, and the only answer is the echo of our wailing cry. From the voiceless lips of the unreplying dead there comes no word; but in the night of death, hope sees a star, and listening love can hear the rustle of a wing.
That 'joy' which sleeps here when dying, mistaking the approach of death for the return of health, whispered with its latest breath, "I am better now". Let us believe in spite of doubts and dogmas, tears and fears, that these dear words are true of all the countless dead, be it dead words, people or even emotions...
Conclusion of the journey of the long day is bound to be a night and this fact is no secret.....Every 'day' deserves a night and the biological diary demand a sleep and it is wise to fulfill the demand......