Dusk

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

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

This ebbing ,
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. 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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