Silenced rose breathing in my soul.

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I

The ashes have been shed. upon gravestones,

that’s cold to callused calls.

I etch monotonous melodies, parched,

scorched, and repulsive like the inkling left behind

a taste too stale, playing foul tempo in my mouth

aggravating, like the feeling

of being too close,

and then pushed behind…

…way behind than yesterday

and forced to listen

the footsteps forming and fading

like dust withering away in ghost towns.

II

Too glossy, my eyes…sting to something

but all pain have centered into the core

where feelings are disheveled

like my hair on most mornings.

But, today, was different

like the town has shelled

my mind too distort

and shrills of emotion was left lingering…

in my comatose soul,

unproductive to the news,

that the robin has left his cage.

III

I craved a drug

to wash away the murkiness;

wedged like a parasite

in my already cynical mind

Too many stories and memories

breathed into the effigy of bones,

it is vexing to breath out the flecks

that shall alleviate the hidden cells of agony.

it is but grim, all this reminisce

coiled deep to the marrow of soul

your breath whispers like myriad of stars

illuminating in my black hole

Why would it have been you?

the sparrow in my garden

nightingale of my nights

cuckoo of my sleepless rhythms

why should you have agreed?

to be the best thorn less rose plucked from my garden

to be the only sunflower beheaded from my hands.

the pillars on which my whole existence existed

is now crashed on my ossified brains.

IV

Perhaps it is the song of new beginnings;

your departure composing new meanings into me,

your smile strokes breathless luminescence

into pools of inky tears I have shed,

since that lightening, on a fine sunny morning

the thunder of your departure being announced too soon

your smiling face on my blanket was ashen

like the moon glimmering melancholy.

Perhaps, there is a meaning

to all this, and I have been marred by my glossy eyes

fretful and fearful, to see a new world without your soul.

“When one door closes, there is another one opened”

your belief is my new food of thoughts;

and as promised by your mellifluous smile

I shall pick my fork and dig in new mornings.

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