Hope is a very subtle feeling
Hooked to it we glide through eternity
But when disenchantment sinks-
A second is a deadweight-time stands still and heavy
I have played the game of hope and despair for too long
He loves me/ he loves me not- the garden is denuded- my anxiety is not
When hope grips me- I am feverish with excitement
Despair soon follows- with dull calm and sullenness
Though my hopes invariably disappoint me
I love their touch while they last
Blessed is the life spent in anticipating
For consummation is never as satisfying as waiting
At the end of life- nothing matters
An achiever is as much mortal as a lotus-eater
I wait to be seized by hope, passion and longing anytime
They add adrenalin in life; or who bothers to live just to meet death?
~Jayanti Sinha~