Unsure Days

Some days are just glances, others stay here to scrutinize

Their temperament lasts a little longer-

Moods sway between tranquillity and unsettled time

Prompted by the duality of a day split into ‘either’ and ‘or’

Silently the oars cut through the little undulations

On days like these, the mirrors are also confused

The reflections are scattered and multiplied erroneously

You never decide the colours on dolorous days

Chances are, the sentiments will paint themselves

To disguise their anguish in front of the many curious eyes

Let’s not talk about the pallor heart and meditative soul

Unsure about the embrace of a dualistic nature of a day


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