Third Shift of the Sun


Ample space in a tight corner only the mind can reach

Demarcation of will, recognition of distance only the eyes can see

The gap between now and never, the end, only the soul can feel

The middle point, a place where the Sun resides in water

The reality of tomorrow is separated by sounds of insects and colours of round balls in sockets

But is tomorrow really a reality, when does it start?

The sun changes its cloth three times a day, the 3rd is a bath that takes away glow and shine

The routine third shift of the hardworking sun, the start of tomorrow

At the 3rd shift, the workman comes home for his bath

In the arms of the same women beaten up during the day, the daily routine of passion and pain

The sun never goes to bed. Wrapped in the embrace of his familiar stranger, he looks up at his space

The uncertainty of no existence, the promise of reward, a destination lost somewhere in time

The map is the soul and the fulfillment is argued by destiny but there are very few believers

The water, always expecting the sun to come to her, the comfort of known zones  

The complex love of hope and aspirations

The marriage of pain with the promise of fulfillment, in between is hope

Some will find their destination, others will never

Gratitude as the remedy for the torture because tomorrow is not another day

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