The air grows grim <br />oscillating between remembrance and forgetfulness <br />the world crumbles <br />between fear and hope <br /> <br />my nights are days <br />and days are days too <br />the gods being lost <br />between self-imposed infliction <br />and incurable affliction <br />the void sprinkles clouds of rootless enigmas <br /> <br />old stories retold in less heavy words <br />and hushed tones <br />to make it more palatable <br /> <br />like a faraway light fading from sight <br />the wind, chilly and cold, <br />trying to alleviate the darkness <br />absorbs the creaking of my heart <br /> <br />reaching the opposites unknowingly <br />is <br />the irony of existence<br /><br />prasanna kumari<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/irony-40/
