She stood there like a wet dream 
Like a remnant of a smile yet to be smiled
Like a remnant of a life yet to be lived
Like a remnant of a poem yet to be transformed
Every drop was bliss
The light of a candle that we all forgot
But yet not extinct
Yet not …
What does the smell of the mud tells us
What does the moss and lichen bequeath to us
On whose will are we
Do we have a will?
The light breeze kissed the leaves and I felt a longing for the earth
Our mirth.


http://showingyourself.tumblr.com(photo credit)



Arjun here.From Kottakkal, Kerala,India. I am interested in anything that is interesting and writing comes among the top of that list. I read,I write,I live.

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