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I sit in my balcony,
A coffee in one hand and a lit cigarette in another, the rains pouring down.
I sit alone pondering about the futility of it all.
People run about trying to avoid getting drenched, you will all get wet anyway.
Life does that to you.
Poignant moments, fleeting thoughts.
Am I where I wanted to be?
Should I hold on or should I let go?
Should I be like the still coffee or should I be like the burning cigarette
The still coffee gets cold with the gentle breeze.
The burning cigarette leaves behind a stain of nicotine.
Life is a paradox and maybe I want to be neither.
Maybe I want to be like the silken feeling of the cold water,
That quenches the hidden thirst and becomes a saviour.
So many questions.
I sit alone in a cage of my thoughts hoping to be free one day.
Free like the rain drops falling from the sky.
Life does that to you.
But I donot want to be silent.
I donot want to give in to the paradox.
Those silences are meant for dead hearts.
I want my life to be like magic with a little sprinkle of wild.

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