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 Feb 2019
ryn
This day is just a day.

A day that shines bright
outside my window.

I could see the unburdened footfalls
of passersby -
with their voiceless chattters,
and spring-loaded gait.

I could feel the warm breeze,
greeting my face as I stood
by the window, enjoying
its play round my hair and ears.

I could smell and taste
the crisp air - laden with chances
and opportunities.
Available, accessible and within reach.
Only if one so desires
to grab at them.

This is just a day.
One amongst many
that I had failed
to be a part of.
 Feb 2019
Sjr1000
How did I end up here?
I asked the darkness
There was no response

How did I end up here
I asked the sun
Fell asleep in its heat
There was no response

Running down to the river
I fell to my knees
The river talked non stop
But I couldn't understand a word

I ran to the ocean
to find the heart portal
at the last log
Though I looked
I could not find it anywhere

Drove the long desert valley to the petroglyphs
Ten thousand years old
Written in a language
I would never understand

The full moon rises eclipses and moves on
I open my mind
How did I end up here I ask
In the dark silence of the rising sun
desert red
By the river running to the ocean
There is no response
Again.
 Sep 2018
Onoma
leaves hang

on to a tree...

as if every

word.

says falling

won't be so

bad.

growing trust

in change

of color.
The temple rises
high above the humid earth.

The sun looking through the playful clouds
colors the terracotta in the golden hue
of God's emotions
long forgotten by the travellers
down on his earthly abode.
At the temple, June 3 2018 4 pm
 Jul 2018
Poetic T
dehydrated dreams
fall like corpses
wilted leaves of night terrors
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