The Story.

Why do we live the same stories?

We are one, and yet not
Waking up to the same days,
that are just as old as yesterday
Sleeping into the same nights,
just as blue as the moon light
Living life on a loop,
Tapping to the beats of the same dance
Only with different people at different times
Tell me, why do we live the same stories?

“What’s your story?”
          – they ask you.
My story is one that cannot be stringed into words
It exists in me
And it shall die with me
But my story is the same as yours
A story weaved by the same raconteur
Of dreams and desires, that fall into an abyss
Of dirt and dust, that grow into a flower
Always walking to the same destination,
With paths that entangle and untangle
My story is shared by everyone around me
And by everyone who surrounds those around me

My story is one of grief, and love
Where for two and forty hours, I sleep into light only to wake up to the dark

My story is one of happiness, and woes
Where I survive in the forests, only to return back to the Earth

My story is one of hurt, and desire
Where I sing through the desserts, only to wash away my pain by the sands

My story is one of peace, and war
Where I steal my books, only to have them burnt by the end

My story is one of hope, and pain
Where I run for the kites, only to touch the skies with my fingers

My story is one of devastation, and bliss
Where I chase the clouds, only to come chasing for myself

My story is not one that can be stringed into words
For it lives in you as much as it lives in me

Why do you and I live the same stories,
when all we ever shared was the air?
Why do you and I live the same stories,
when all we ever had was to disappear?

Tell me, why do we keep living the same stories?
The same life on a loop?
Tapping to the beats of the same dance
Only with different people at different times

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