Funny how life takes U-turns and drives you back to the place you were two years ago. Here I am working on a short-term project with the same team I worked with two years ago. And it feels like nothing has changed, well, except me. They are still struggling to stay awake on late nights to finish off their tasks, they are still missing out on so many new ideas to be thunk had they got any time to ponder, they are still surviving life instead of living it. And, I am, once again, inspired to write. I can still recall how I was sitting and writing another poem in the same bus and the same seat after leaving late from work following a series of late-nights. Of course, it's not all inspired by them. I've been listening to Pink Floyd all week at work :)
Yawns afloat, ideas drowned; a little fidget, a little filth.
Morning knocks at the door of the factory of myth.
The feisty tamers bash their cane.
Captives gear up for another day too mundane.
I peep into the castle with dreary eyes.
Soon as I enter, Faustus' soul won't suffice.
A furnace of free-will, a cauldron of hopes.
The key to the shackles, every lonesome hand gropes.
Make me laugh, make me cry.
Clip my wings, while I yearn to fly.
Don't stop, shoot darts before I can blink!
Walk me by the dump of reason, it stinks.
Stifle my spirit, while my lungs gasp.
No air to breathe, no belief to clasp.
Sit back and smile, I'll keep up the strife.
Tomorrow's the beginning of the rest of my life.
And here's the poem I wrote two years ago:
Maze
Reference: In the world of fiction, Christopher Marlowe's character Doctor Faustus sold his soul to the devil in exchange for power and knowledge
