Monday, 25 August 2025

The up-root

 

My foliage hangs uprooted

With fractured breath open

My world after you have left

Overhangs the cage of wild skies

The deep dismay that looms by anf large

It refuses to acknowledge the captivity of skies

To the bars of an overhanging rusty cage

My roots now slither in the indecisiveness

Of what is the breath and the gravel of burial

The pores gasp When sunk in deep surmise

And lose the battle without a fight in the open.

The sprinkle from skies is like your smile

It conveys little hope but removes a lot of dismay

My pulsating breath builds a hope again

Till my word to self finds a fresh wick

The loss is subservient to my loss

Panipat

2312

23.59 hrs

25.8.25


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