Bhawini talks of nature and the ebb of life in this poignant sad poem.

Cracked near the dusty mountains,
As the weary sun does bleed
My heart sobs out,
Its music much like a hollow reed.

This ebbing day,
Tints suture on every cloud.
In this misty flirty darkness,
I can see my very own shroud.

Puffing its weeds, night blows out lamps of the day.
Decked I am with trophies and garlands of defeat.
Who once were friends eventually said nay,
Pain it does, not having a haven to retreat.

Fires and shadows mingle silently,
With the gloom of dust,
The quest seems dying now persistently,
Life slips out of grasp, my blood seems to rust.

©Bhawini Tripathi

Pic from Net.

Bhawini Tripathi

Bhawini Tripathi

Bhawini Tripathi feels strongly about some issues and writes about those. Psychological issues and nature as a great teacher beacons her. Poems are her chosen genre though she pens prose too. She is currently pursuing my Bachelor of Technology from J.K. Institute of Applied Physics & Technology, University of Allahabad.
Bhawini Tripathi

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