As heaven quarrels with itself and weeps,
A girl would curl under umbrella-like
Boughs of an ash tree and pretend to sleep
While enjoying tales of journeys and hikes.
When comets race across midnight and fade,
She would sit on a bench and try to read
The lines etched deep and words in leaves of jade
But not once could she understand its deeds.
Emotion blurred to nonsensical pain
And she ran away with wet eyelashes;
Finally gaining courage to be sane
All that greeted her were voiceless ashes.
The painting now has layers forever-
Can I possibly go back? No. Never.
YOU ARE READING
Journeys through Time
PoetryBooks are all boats that take you through the pages of time. This book is a collection of poems, short stories, and other pieces of writing. Hopefully it can take you on an journey you have never been on before.
