There's a sense of dissatisfaction.
Of unfulfilled dreams perhaps.
Its depths threaten to swallow her whole someday.
Or worse, make her destroy the life she has in chase of it.
A life that should have made her happy.
She fears her dreams.
Dreams that she thought she could forget.
That make her perfect life look imperfect.
Dreams that refuse to stay buried.
They remain— hungry and demanding.
Immortal creatures these dreams– seemingly fed and bred with longings and regret.
YOU ARE READING
Window pain
PoetryThis book is but a humble attempt at encapsulating life and all its flavours. It is an ode to the sad days and melancholy nights. For grief that stays alive even after years have passed. Musings of longings and dreams of escape. And a protest agai...
