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Kriti Mishra May 2017
Draped in bridal red
Amidst widowed landscapes she stands
With her veil swaying gently in the breeze
And blossoms tinkling at her feet
Fractured light decorates her
Revealing rubies hiding in her tresses
She brings forth her veil
Shading weary scorched souls
An oasis
Amidst desolate desert sands
The forest fire rages
Against fate which brought upon us this drought
Rekindling hope
Of new birth and mercy
And rages
Until it's time for gentle showers and soothing greens
Then tired
Sleeps until the end of spring

— The End —