The function of imagination is to send the soul on a search through time and space. Man's mere existence is so insignificant that it evokes pity. May it be a boon or a curse, but somehow this ability to ponder on the big pool of diverse questions helps time lapse.
Mankind feeds itself on answers. There's a definite satisfaction when you find the missing sock of a pair in the closet. But what precedes that feeling of satisfaction? What precedes is the need of a quest. The tiny drop of dew is born with a desire to wake up the morning leaf. The human race wouldn't have survived if the first man hadn't set his foot out in the search of something that would satisfy his hunger And if Satan hadn't lured Eve in eating 'the forbidden fruit', man's true journey would never have started. The 'paradise' had never been lost.
Man still finds himself in the search of meaning of life.. The search is in the violet skies, in the moment when the stretched golden sunlight uncovers the green meadows from the shadow of the clouds. The search is of food for the ants who never fail to do the victory parade in their smallest of triumphs. Even the sapling twists its hip in the search of the sun.
And in this relentless and unceasing search, man strolls under the shimmering skyline, wishing for a break- a break from this search, only to drown in the night sky under the floating jewels.
Nevertheless, the search continues.
(This passage was written as an assignment to construct a passage with literary elements.)
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