Tuesday, April 15, 2008

A no-twist-in-tale story

I know,
The story ends.

The story of self,
Drama of life.
Thespian art,
I play, but not for a living.

I keep waiting,
To take my final bow,
Your august presence,
In a front row seat.

I'll bow,
To none but you.
And till you are here,
The curtain will not fall.

Isn't it life,
What we all live for?