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Oct 2020
Withered and within
a dying breath
and yarns of endless ephemerae,
like thunder, like lightning,
igniting ages of delusion;

A fear.

Astral and adrift,
IΒ Β bloom in adventures,
yet amble in ink of hundred hues,
like a bubble, like a feather,
lazing in prismatic pastels;

A vagabond.

Etched and enshroudedΒ Β ,
a fiery trail of my footprints
I have yet to reach,
like a fantasy, like a nightmare,
calling, in dusk-soaked whispers;

A journey.

A life ahead.
Posting after a long time...
This one holds many of my thoughts,
lately they've been drifting a lot
Written by
Shrika  17/F/India
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