|
| |
The Dilatory Thought
Blessed in abundance that manifests in our
stressed daily interaction with our fellow man, and the sincerest
form of our inner wellbeing is the outpour of laughter.
Dormant in the face of adversity, while we empathise with
modern populace at large and try to bring some
modicum of humanity and relief of the pain.
We’d all experience this from time to time and this is
seed of essence in our reality that is forever fraught.
Felled by ulterior motives – punished like Sisyphus by our
fellow peers – as the dulcet tones of compliments, the sweetest
wrung encouragement that soothed our souls like songs
sung at our cradle; the melodies now forgotten. They are
symbols indelibly edged into our subconscious and those
cymbals that tend to want to drown us out so that
we spin in the vortex, but vector us towards the stories to tell.
Be it to explain the tumultuous emotions raging beneath the surface of
our designer exterior – this is by far the saddest
hour and we, eventually, rather opt for the dilatory thought.
Our sincerest laughter
With some pain is fraught;
Our sweetest songs are those that tell of saddest thought.
Percy Bysshe Shelly – To a Skylark
Copyright ©
Suzette Richards
|
|