All philosophers true to the study will go mad some day.
But then again, it is Normal that defines Mad.


This was something I found in a notebook of mine when I was flipping through it. I obviously can't finish it now because I don't know what I felt then to write it, so here goes my half-baked poem.

A moon so pale never was
So bright in the early night
Overpowering the stars so weak,
Overpowering the Sun, its fading light

Bright in the sky, bright in mind
This pale crescent did bring to me
Memories long banished from self
A bittersweet pain in my eyes, you see

I long stared at its golden haze
Reliving the Past in its warmth
That warmth that soon turned to heat
And burnt to ashes the joy that swarm'd

That moon did witness that first kiss
That passionate and devouring kiss
That burns my lips even today
As I think of he whom I miss...

I so want to finish it. I'll look around in my life and get back :)