Sunday, 20 July 2025

The parched flight

 

Droplets squeeze out on forehead

Some flow from the dazzling eyes

When they strike the rumination

That thunder within a parched mind.

A falling quill laments his dismal plight

Whereas heavens kissed his white visage

That reflected the golden orb in sky

Now misery of the filthy roots beckons

During the fall when the burden of glitter

Is shed in a faint hope of keeping afloat

Wherein we spent so much to earn

Two diverse types of precious currency

The futility of one is known without the other

The flight that remains parched arrives

While the waters that fall earn the glitter.

Dehradun

2302

12.30 hrs

20.7.23


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