Thursday, 4 January 2018

Imagination that stumbled in the void,
There is still time and the nodding science.

Distanced by dream, a wind broken tree
Beneath the roots silence pipes the magic tune.

Passing light years, stone by stone
The existence can be seen on patriarch's brow.

I lay my void in the dust,
Where marble crumbles and asks what the time has done.

-Rahul Srivastava

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Winter Birds