The night was fresh,
with sparks of gray.
Life seemed impossible,
yet it seemed worth it;
worthy enough, to give it a try.
There was a turmoil,
One night, I had a mental block or in my context you can simply put it as a writer’s block, that means that point of time you know when you actually don’t know that you really know something. That was the night when I decided I should pen down my thoughts, so that I read it the next day when my brain gets back its life in order to sit back and analyze the points I make when my brain is not functioning properly. Continue reading
perhaps a contraption,
like a wheel,
whirling and swiveling.
Not a hamlet,
but a locale, deserted.
Mortals bellowing all about.
Afar awaited something,
a sanctuary or perhaps a shrine.
Holy Cross with a benevolent smile.
Abrupt gaping of the ingress ,
kind of dismayed.
Macabre or a human,
ghastly and scary,
stitching and sewing a carcass,
staring with an eerie smile.
Poem’s background – A dream put together in words.
PS – If you like the posts here, do follow this blog.
(Bookshelves of Pankaj Goyal)
There is no common truth
my life - growing up and literary adventures
Devotionals on A COURSE IN MIRACLES and A COURSE OF LOVE . . .with Celia Hales
Travel photos, memoirs & letters home...from anywhere in the world
reflections on a passing life
Screenplays (eventually) and the Meanderings of a Complex Mind
Playing mind games with Soul
Fun with Prompts by Lori Carlson
A great WordPress.com site