Dropping the pendulum,
watching the fishes,
almost shivering with our looks.
Golden old tragedies,
of myths that were untold
and unseen because,
soldiers of her Kingdom
were just ashes and the swords
remorseful of their birth
because their mother
lied on the ground,
unmoving, waiting for a
rain that extinguished the fire
that had burned down
those walls of faith.
❝ It has been a while. ❞
She would say, hunting
down spears and the rust
on her kids -
the swords, a little scared
of her -
so ravenous, still very
ravishing,
full of paradoxes and broken
promises buried in trinkets,
some of them captured in
a book that she never read -
a book that someone from
the apple orchid and the
coffins of battleground wrote.
~Sampurna
YOU ARE READING
Ink And Echoes
Poetry♚ ❛ Juliet, Tell me what is it like to vanquish - When you tossed the coin, And stepped on the battleground, With the accent of swords. Still you stand, Hands dripping of sin. In search of Romeo, You killed, And killed, And died. ❜ { Highest rank in...
