I live through you, now Sputter and die... like the engine of the old Kawasaki, Illegible- like the Mughal Parchment, Knotted and gnarled, like the childhood banyan, Stained with disease, like the leaking ink pen I left I watch his movement with my playful eye, He spins shapes out of dirty clay. I remember the magician, I was myself, Years back, spotty and dirty. Ready for game..... His reflexes, much quicker than mine, His arms, much slicker than mine. His body- lithe, like the forest panther, His mind- an instrument capable of the most lethal demolition. I live through him now, I breathe his air. His spirit, lifts me from my chair.
This blog is the chalk with which i dirty the black board of opinion; whats YOURS ???