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  Mar 2019 chitragupta
ryn
.
Mighty palette
in the sky.
Feast of pastel colours
of sundown.

Nestbound birds
sang up a cry.
Alone I sat,
grass-crested mound.

Inhale a breath,
exhale a sigh...
Pocket of bliss,
peace on earthly ground.



.
  Mar 2019 chitragupta
Traveler
What was it
That finally broke my soul?
Perhaps I was suppose to die
Many years ago
I made amends
To set thing right
But it seemed that was just
A wasted flight
Somehow I'm still alive
Suffering as I survive
I have no words
Left to say
No warnings
To convey
Believe as you may
I wasn't suppose to write
These words today
Instead I should be sleeping
In a younger me's grave....
Traveler Tim
chitragupta Mar 2019
Colour me in your mind
Am I vermillion red
or prussian blue?
Maybe a mix of the two?
Or just a hue
Of simple forest green
No wait, aquamarine
like an underwater scene
Deep and darkness within
Yet maybe you enjoy shades
that are bright
and they look so
under the sunlight
But true colours show
only under the grayest skies
to the most observant eyes
You only get to know a person truly when they are at their darkest moments.
Oh, happy Holi from a Norman Gortsby ;)
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