A poem of struggles, hope and yearning, by Subramanian, exclusively for Different Truths.
I yearn for those days of winter-laden November when we had the cold blanket of cares and joys, faced them as one until the malicious genie struck. I yearn for those days when we soothed our dear kin at home or abroad with a lasting breath of love... Until words froze in a vacuum. I yearn for those days when eye could see a mate, lips widened into a smile and hands folded in warmth Until walled in a self-made cocoon. Never in the remote corner of mind did we even fancy or foresee a day when kith were forced to warn its kin And feel, to be forewarned is forearmed. This day too will pass into the annals that tell tales of fortitude and pluck, straddling the seas and the cosmos. The enduring breath ever prevails.
Visual by Different Truths