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PRAKHAR SHARMA May 2021
I stopped for a while and heaved a heavy sigh,
The woods were as wide as the endless sky.
The winter noon seemed to be buzzing with life,
It seems I am lost in the wilderness wild.

The birds chirped as a soft breeze of wind waved past,
For how long will this moment seem to last?
The winter evening draws a curtain to the buzzing life,
It seems I am lost in the wilderness wild.

The dense paradise of solitary comfort is deep,
And the path I walk is too steep.
The winter night recites a tale of my plight,
It seems I am lost in the wilderness wild.

I stopped for a while and heaved a heavy sigh,
It seems I am lost in the wilderness wild.
PRAKHAR SHARMA Oct 2020
Far away on the lands so far,
Our hands clasped at the eleventh hour,
Love escaped our lips as we parted love,
Life nictates a crippling affliction of life.

Remedy this sally through thy remedy,
Cry out to our blithe life as we both cry.
Pledge me a gift as a parting pledge,
Break away thy pledge and so shall we break.

Life of mine makes a plea to thy life,
Forget me my love for I cannot forget,
Loath me my love for I cannot loath,
Live for me my love for I cannot live.

Reminisce the memories that we reminisce.
Story of our life, let me dream a new story.
A piece of heart inked down on a piece of paper.
PRAKHAR SHARMA Sep 2020
Last flap of wings,
Tear apart the sky,
As oriole rise above the horizon.
PRAKHAR SHARMA Sep 2020
A millions words would not bring you back, i know because i tried, neither would a million tears, i know because i cried.
PRAKHAR SHARMA Sep 2020
That what is yet to be seeked is now a passage of reality
PRAKHAR SHARMA Sep 2020
Suspire heavily, 'tis a garden of demise.
In amid of prolonged night it blooms.
Sea of night shines long and bright,
Methinks the stars are to blame.
Under such folly the garden dwells.
Nigh onto the envious dawn.

I felt the velvety dews,
Lying at peace over the willows.
Owls of Minerva hoot unsung beauty.
Vile are the fruits of life that demise withhold,
Endeavoured with the phantom of false.

Yes ‘tis our garden.
Ornaments of life violate to death,
Under this night where the cursed garden dwells.
PRAKHAR SHARMA Sep 2020
What witered away was not your love but our trust.
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