Monday, 8 February 2016

Poetic Survival

I plunge into a realm so quiet,

Runaway plan form this pilgrimage.

Sealing the doors, drawing the curtains,

I listen to a music so different,

The voice of a soul demanding release.

Vision of a world of possibilities.

Imprisoned words bolts away,

without a fret of security.

A heart so heavy, turns like the yellow leaf,

 blown by the summer wind.

I forget my existence for a while..

Like raindrops hitting the ground,

The ink hits the dry paper,making

puddles of memories and thoughts.

Emotions dried in ink, they are

memories buried in paper.

Strong words of a faint voice.

Vivid images of blurred moments.

A loud shout of quietness........ 

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