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 The night, when life was sucked out…
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.
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