Uncertainty

by ashwinia


Uncertainty is murderous. And the most painful of that kind: It kills from within. An air of apprehension sets and lasts. Waves of hope warm a cold, gloomy lake that begins to stagnate. The most frightening are the dreadfully ominous days. One paces up and down the worn-out staircase, desperate, waiting for a revelation that only always evades.

It makes one wonder if the human mind is more at peace knowing it is to feel distraught and miserable than not knowing how to feel at all.

This though, is futile thought as uncertainty is the essence of this capricious life.

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