Pragmatic theories, mythical narrations, historical etchings and rusted remnants authenticate our ancient existence
Godly beings, validate our existence. Atomicities affirm our existence.
Yet there is an unravelled mystery that hides behind the veil of logical science and emotional faith.
The veiled mystery is sensitive to the aroma of suspicion, doubt and questions, and that is why it prefers the cloak of invisibility, and does not mind when people call it unreal
What about the sky ?
Well the sky is the inverted sea, in an evaporated form with condensed waves in white.
The sky is majestic and holds it's head high, it makes sure that we look up
Or probably the sky can't stoop low to our invisible attributes
The clouded hues, narrate a chaotic saga, and have teary eyes at the end of it
Or it might be that the weary sky enters a slumber and encounters the paranormal greyness in it's nightmare
And when it rains, it is basically the huffed mother trying to break the deep sleep by pouring water
Are we trapped in an an abyss? The one that is spherical in shape.
Maybe we have created a not so small world in that fathomless chasm.
Or maybe earth is an embodiment of the forbidden fruit having it's share of virtue and vice.
Probably the earth is the eye of an inexplicable beholder ,where the veins are made up of blue and green
The other eye must define the parallel earth existing in a surreal universe
Incredible appear the chronicles of the celestial beings, legendary heroes ,mighty glories, the dawn of evil and the fall of good
But what if it is just a figment of imagination of the celestial beings
Perhaps there exists a gigantically huge baby , and we are his breathing playmates
When the baby chuckles, we experience tremors and we drown when the baby cries
Probably we are the puppets of a voodooed trickster , with feelings and invisible strings
Or this might be a reeling cinema with infinite characters, and finite lifelines
Only ups and downs of life and death aren't reel
Where a whimsical director conceptualises scenes of life for people,
He rewinds, and we get nostalgic, he fast forwards and we think time flies
He pauses, to ensure that our grief is for eternity
He stops and ejects, only to end our lives and extract our souls
Probably we are beings pertaining to an eerie globe, owned by an erratic witch with a pointy nose
A witch , who foretells life and death, by stroking the sphere
Or probably this is life after death, where we are the tangible ghosts
However the very aspect of life, after life or imagination seems worthwhile to experience.