...
A drop of cold water fell on my cheek
A fallen dry rose flew from ground into my lap
The breeze by the brook kept on hitting me in a rhythm
I could not ignore.
This had to be a revisit, of times, of broken stories, of chill
Instead of bitter pain, I felt the feel of sweet acceptance
I must have been hurt, to now be overwhelmed such
Eyes decorated with black kohl, decide to shed some thoughts
I can understand, they need to spread the magic they hold
and be free of the many burdens.
Shringi
May 24, 2011
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