Our life’s on a canvas,So crisp and so white,Endless possibilities,To bring it to light. We sit as painters,Acrylics in hand,Adding colours to the canvas,With the passing of sand. And we look at the colours,The soft hues of pain,All of the colors,That cling to our veins. And we’re bound to fill colors,Put no boundaries at all,But…
Tag: Young
National Poetry Month Writing Challenge: The Final Segment
“The end of a melody is not its goal: but nonetheless, had the melody not reached its end it would not have reached its goal either. A parable.” I might have never believed that I would do it when I started writing a poem a day. However, I am here, with my last segment, wrapping…
The sky is a poem
The sky is a poem,Painted in vibrant rhyme,It cries in gentle metaphors,That drench me time to time. All its hues are varied moods,In its colors bright and bold,Are underlying similes,And narratives untold. It blushes in crimson allegory,Through sun kissed golden odes,And merges into bleaker nights,And snowy, pallid roads. An embodiment of elegies,It lists to this…
Night break pt.II
The twisted woods enveloped,In lifeless gray haze,The night ever so motionless,An indomitable maze, Woody naked branches,And their distorted canopies,Dark flowers bleeding down,On leafless, dying trees. The forest floor rustling,Under chilling, voiceless screams,So realistically fictitious,Like sombre lucid dreams. Weirdly humid,But every breath so icy cold,Frostbite on our cotton cheeks,And fear manifold. The feeling of being watched,From…
Night break pt.I
The glorious pines stand,In their battle scarred gowns,Taller into the starry sky,Belligerent and brown. A mystical aura,Drifting through the air,Ambrosial and damp,Complementing the moon’s flair. Enchanting music plays,From the orchestras in the sky,Little flickering fireflies fly,as the old peaks sit by. Gurgling creeks of silver flow,Laden with fish and toads,As this verdant moss ever so…
Sui Generis 