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Gangothrii Jul 2018
Colors blurred to a banausic bore,

Sights I crossed, sought my eyes no more.

Paths overused, they bore the brunt,

Of thousand hopeful feet that met the end.

All so familiar yet so strange,

What’s that my heart so craves?

Is it the fruit of seed, sown so early?

Or the bloom of desires, of my heart.

Choose I should, one path,

Can I not have it all?

Weigh, I must, of what that matters,

Or shall watch as many dreams shatter?

Some who came, made a choice,

Others just stayed, without a voice..

Many lost their battle of dreams,

That crossed their imaginary realms.

Hate I would, to do what all do,

Regret I shall, if I don’t follow.

Someone cry out for a piece of me,

Shall surrender all of me, in blissed peace.

Thoughts that bled in colors so wild,

Drained away as greys remain,

Nobody asked for a piece of me,

So I walked the path that was set for me.

— The End —