Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Oct 2015
"relate"
One calm night,
Under a yellow moon.
Just to find some solitude,
I was wandering through the woods.
Suddenly,
I felt a presence.
It was coming close,
"what it might be?"
I wondered blindly,
As there was no one to be seen.

It said that it wanted to talk,
To come out of its loneliness.
So I sat under a pine,
Hypnotised by those voices.
So thus started its story,
A tale of true vices.

Long long ago,
In a wilderness.
It lived without a cause,
Only freedom and openness.
It was wild, it was young,
It was everything serene.
It was the way,
It was the only dream.
But you know how life works,
In mysterious ways.
It was lost in the wild,
Which once was it's home.
It was struggling in the freedom,
It was bound in its own openness.
They wanted it to dissolve,
In their new acid rain.
And it did everything they said,
Just to see their gain.
Anshul Sharma
Written by
Anshul Sharma  Shimla
(Shimla)   
387
   Ankita, --- and Sumina Thapaliya
Please log in to view and add comments on poems