White heat.
Souls scarred by dusty winds.
The azure bowl lends no respite,
Tired leaves forget to flicker.
Hope is a forgotten foe.
Memory, the stain of dried tears
Imagination, dots of paint at the tip of a quill.
Meanings elude
Silence stifles
like an age old curse
life skulks
as I stand
On the crossroads of Time.
On the crossroads of Time.
2 comments:
My first time on your blog. Lovely work...you have a way with words.Keep it up!
Best,
Mishree.
thank you so much :)
do visit it further..
cheers!
stuti
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