Photo Credit: Stefano Pollio | Unsplash There is a spirit that wanders my hallway at night. Awake and restless, she cannot find peace, or respite. Soulful and sad, she seeks what is out of reach. Her loneliness enveloped in silence; devoid of solace, devoid of speech. Yet she walks my halls, and she unsettles me She means no harm, she is just lonely. Oh, how she would like to rest her weary head, Close her tired eyes, and dream instead. The street lights illume her steps and her tired frame, A spectre of her own making, a haunting of her own domain. The life drained from her by someone she once knew, A love unrequited, a heart cast askew. She is an accretion of her unsavoury past, Effects of many a shadows that were cast-- "All good things must come to an end; Beware! There are tears beyond every happy bend." Her demons walk alongside her--whispering her every sin. A constant reminder of failings, in the quiet din. The darkness that makes her, every night, manifest Kee...
The all too familiar experience shared by expats as they step out of the airport into the Motherland's arms. The intoxicatingly familiar scent Wafting through the air-- Spices, antiquity, progress, poverty, And a hint of of putrid sweetness. The world is a blurry sweep of colours, motion, and the voids in between. I take in a lungful of this carbon lined breath. Oh, how I have missed this daily dose of pollution; Oh how I have suffocated in that clean foreign air.
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