Friday, July 24, 2009

Distances (2)

There is a distance swathed in sand, with gentle colours lapping at its shores. The continent beckons with increasing insistence, while the island whines piteously, shackled by an identity mired in confusion and a system that prides itself on defamation.

It is a narration without a definite ending, thrashing in an abyss that rears with vengeance and subsides without a tremor. The distance is no longer the attainable memory of past years; it is now burdened with deciding a future that cannot hasten to rebel with defiance. Distance has succumbed to the identity of confusion that emanates from the island of rhetoric.

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