The dawn of the parlance

The time thus stopped, still Between then and the now, Then was forever beautiful Now is undulating but infernal. Forever is hence a myth, Tied between the bygone And the moments yet to come Stuck, unmoving and dead. The rise of an era, indeed Was not a beginning either, It was called upon by turmoil And the sacrifices of all. Them all, gave up all they could Left behind what they had, They managed to flee, evacuate But couldn't untie the chain. The chain that was tied So fast around their souls, Choked, breathless, unmoved. They cried, longed, lamented. The emotions they were bound to Took a toll on them once again, The empire did rise again, Them, all, remained the same!

Well, life is nothing but a catalogue of ideas that exists somewhere, waiting to get substantial! Take a form or maybe be loud enough for the world to hear; not as an echo but a whisper… The thing about whispers, Well, thy are heard yet unheard! Understood yet unknown language for many. Whispers, seldom become audible but the tunes are soothing, the feel of being unheard yet heard by somebody. More often than usual it is our own soul doing the role. But such introspection sessions are common, as common as an Unicorn on the road at the countryside maybe! The thing about Unicorns, Well, they are magic. Magic sounds surreal but yes if you have the courage to believe in it; it won't disappoint you. Those 'serene' creatures are nothing but miracles. Wondrous souls that are created with the blink of an eye; with the movement of the wand I guess!