Every late night endeavour results in virtual war between me and my colors.
The very morning I bit those lips and felt the very condolence of love,
And the soft but firm grip on so called reality.
Mindfull people making fruitfull conversations,
Arguments on who cleans the dishes and what is to be done with the cat,
A meagre handfull of victims brooding over the lost hope of gaining something out of habits.
Neither bengali nor hindi had ever been this obstinating in one's life.
There is this one side where you here them talk,
while the otherside tells you that there is a sound to silence as well.
I mean how is one to try and sleep while every mindless boggle can make one grieve,
And then it comes back to the main reason am writing this, its this color MAROON.
A combination of red with a tiny bit of black.
A vibrancy with nothingness, an endurance to mutual understanding with nature,
Lunacy and hypocrism,
Focusing on one helps one result in ignoring what bothers.
So lemme tell you something the more I focus on the moon the more I would forget that there are stars that still exist.
Since it all starts with add a bit of black to all reds.
A bit of your own blend of evil in damage. A pinch of salt on burn. A deeper scar across a pain.
One that helps forget the rest and that perseverance can teach one to love Maroon.