❝ replenish ❞

I kind of find it ironic how days is replaced by night. Or seconds into years. Sun with moon. Springs blooms to dried orange leaves. Winter to summer. Monday to Sunday. Your true childlike self to this crazy, lost adult. Once complicated task into silly act of perfection. New habits to routine. Old diner standing near school into grand glass buildings. Empty roads filled with refreshing smell of greenery with multisectional bridges. Person with whom you learnt how to climb erect tall trees replaced by this aching memory, now only to be found in one of those stars you watch while climbing trees during midnight. Your naive self to true self. Your place at someone's heart displaced by someone else, someone new with more potential than you ought to reflect. One after another, everything being replaced with bittersweet symbols, neither awful or satisfactory. It's like travelling on a train, who's destination you never know. All those sceneries you watch from the wide screen replaced by smoking factories to grasslands. One station to another. Passengers boarding and leaving. Seats replaced constantly. The cycle of replenishment, all over again. Round and round. Lost in circles. Birth till death. An imperfect act of life cycle which we call lifestyle.

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