It's me,
Stuck in a whirlpool of memories,
Suffocated by a flurry of thoughts,
Drenching in quicksand of my emotions.
On the contrary;
To the beholder,
It's just ripples, light snowfall and fine sand.
These are merely makeshifts;
To distract you away,
From the ubiquitous quest of life,
Pursuit of aliveness and
Gist of animateness.
In my context,
Life altogether appears as a;
Juggle for a momentous split...
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