History :from known to unknown

 History:from known to unknown

History never repeats it self,

But it rhymes perhaps.

Through the linear parallels of time travel,

We move back and ahead,

Through our historical efforts.

But when we look back at this,

We learn so much from our past,

Moving from the known to the unknown,

The timeframes surpass.

We cling to that period,

That separated the lineage of linear.

Through the deltas of dates and demarcations,

Every era makes its own history of millennium creations.

History: the shackled past beneath the surface that switches aghastly,

History: a story to be narrated,that has been narrated,

But still smiles at its umpteen narrations with wrong interpretations,

And still can't be manifolded to marvel its accurate fashion.

History is grandeur,

That give away the gifts of memorable reminisces.

That still  had to be claimed and kept,

In the hearts of its own lover.

Travelling across the pages of our textbooks,

We find Stories of those centuries and years.

That shouts the incidents and events,

Of multi factual found.

We question and then we try to answer,

The questions that are so unambiguous to be ever answered.

We ponder and then we contemplate,

How this empire had vanished and other had remained?

But who knows ?

What would be the past?

Without time Machines,

We can never be so sure about what happened at last, alas!

But still history , 

always begans with such a story,

 that never ends,

To repeat its own golden glory.

So who would eclipse?

Who would give the correct funeral code?

When history starts enrolling it's load ,

No one can really make up the built fort.

History is still an enigma,

And always would be,

Cause it is  based on the theory of ,

What is gone, can never be completed known.

So try to think,

Differently.

But don't be so sure,

About the past.

Cause the juxtaposition lies ,

And the interpretation might deceive our own finds.

Archaeology and textual evidence,

May help to find the latent trenches.

But still you don't know,

What languages they all spoke?

History: the manisfestion of mystical mystery,

The energy of past and present.

Can never be charmingly grounded to procure about the fundamental tries,

When discoursed death dies.

So the bygone is bygone,

In the burial of not to be ever known.

The hypothetical inferences are done,

But history sustains its confidentialities from each and everyone.

Leeza