The Joy and Sorrow Never Meet.
--
Inundated over by,
Joy abundant,
You can never store the same,
In the dirty filthy cupboards of memory,
To resuscitate and to relish again on some future date.
In the dirty filthy cupboards of memory,
To resuscitate and to relish again on some future date.
The waters that tide,
The waters that ebb,
Are ever so untouched,
By the crazy desires and longings.
The very touch of memory desecrates Joy ,
though you can find superficial consolation in the illusion of re-living them.
though you can find superficial consolation in the illusion of re-living them.
***
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