Tuesday, 5 January 2016


A song is playing in the background
Time fails to stand still. In fact, it quickly travels back where every brick was loved.

Why do I breathe the Time in, when I want it out? 
Why did I want to believe in you, when I had faith in Time?
Why I kept gathering the slipping moments, and why you kept up your Time for the world?
When even a breath couldn’t pass through the both of us, how did Time pass through?
How punctual was Time really then?

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