is

few knew, may be just five

this is my obituary 

and the epitaph says it all

smile and walkaway
i am late to my own funeral

I fractured my conscious

Broken thoughts

Million of miles away

Slipping right through

Can it be

Back to where it used to feel

Rainbows and butterflies

Coloured uncoloured

Nay!

Its broken

Simple.

A myth, living a metaphor

My life is a Sunday

but i miss the music

theres something i haven't told myself 

the truth

i lost, i gambled, i walked the farthest 

symphony is dying

and the sand strings don't play

hear no anger, see no shy, feel no empathy?

magicians and mathematicians

holographic sensibilities

contained

tracing back to my fleeting moments

maybe in the 7th dimension

time will no longer be the thing

and i'd be de-morphed