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Thursday, April 30, 2015

The Lady in White

There is a quiet angel waiting in white
She watches, patiently, quietly.
A robe of pure white, she remains
Like a lotus in a sea of colours.

There is a shade of grey
It grows as we do
A simple law doesn’t exist
Ifs, buts, thens and whens do!
They take you by the scoop
And turn you upside down, face first.

There is a shade of grey.
Lingering in the background
Like your own ignored shadow
It prospers, yet stays patient
Confused - To blame, to not blame.
Thread thick pathways, tread softly
Like the cat on a wall.

There is a shade of black
Devil with horns and tail
Glowering like coal, black
looks like a condescending guard
Opens its arms wide and calls you
To fall into it, sneakingly
It doesn’t care how bad it appears
It does not matter too.
Its sanguine demeanor pulls you in.
Leaves an aftertaste that you will regret
you watch the barren tree with never flowering stems.

There is a quiet angel waiting in white
It knows what you are, what you need
What you can, what you cannot
It becomes your nagging conscience
Asking you to stop, silently pleading
Overheard, resigns with a sign, but never retires
But, It is patient, holding itself.
When all falls, it will stand tall.
A warm bed, a warm home
A tub to soothe and wash your soul
A second chance
And lets you slumber in its arms
Strokes your hair and calls in utopia

A neverland, straight, right and quiet
Thus defined, are the shades of your conscience.

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