Legacy of the Unknown

A wanderlust star blurts out wise words when it stops. Nobody crams up the history, if somebody does, it hardly is a matter of course and wisdom is in keeping the history and not cramming one. An aged person has hustled up all his life, has earned, has lost, has steadily walked through all the maneuvers; hastily working out the problem and then keeping the insane quietness, was the cuisine!

He cooked his life himself and there was this strong aroma of the raging fire. He never knew that the worst he faced would take him to the most beautiful parts of time. He enrouted the grief which imparts the meaning of reality. The pain makes it feel, feel everything, feel its existence. The star twinkles, it's dull one second and bright the other second; embraces the fact of falling and rising. 

Why is the inspiration needed? Why there this the need of a drag? Why do we need some isolation to brighten ourselves? It’s because everyone knows the definition and limit of bright and everyone knows that sun is brightest. What about something brighter than the sun. Yes! A weird question it is, still is something to ponder upon. 

There is this idea that let words flow to define one. Instead, I would suggest that let words learn you. This is so true, it’s like reading the abstract section of the newspaper or the novel which lets you empathize. You need more words then to determine the opacity of the idea of being the same as you read. Let nature, books and pens specifically find your words. Your search for the brimming notion of what exactly you are. And after reaching that point your search for a new era of new emotions and a new regime. You look for a new shelter and then you grow old with this phenomenon repeated one after other. 

And then you are experienced and then what happens? You die, why? 

You die because the energy wants everyone to experience this life in their own way and not your way. You live till you give the outline because the mapping of others life doesn’t need your indulgence. This life of questions which never did question you is itself a puzzle. You are bruised on the journey to accept death easily. You are gone, leaving behind the legacy of your perceptions.