The ropes are gone
Lost in a garden of wretched believers
And I, vigilante
Let my dreams soar
For a clear, white day.
Like a string less kite, departed leaf
Like a lonely wave
Washing your feet.
Only mere strings remain
And I, lost in a maze
Of vile beliefs
Pour labyrinth into my cup
Swallow it down the abyss.
And in the distance, as far
As the eye can see the grey
The box is undone
The walls are bare
The mirror is empty
For her reflection is gone.
And the threads, the threads, threads
The threads grow thinner still.
*awesome photo by Ipshita :)
3 comments:
Much honoured :)) I'm glad that a mundane photograph could be put to such a use! Next, I am going to take happy pictures and you are going to write happy poems :D
LOVE this.
Thanks Ipshita and much appreciated Amna! :)
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