The lamest of thoughts in quest of valued felicity,
Sleepy conscience rendering multitude of dimensions,
An invariable dissent penetrates into depths of root..
And the leaves of content droops down to ochre.
Thereby,anticipation takes toll,
Blends in the autumn..
Like decayed bloom of the leaves,
The pale breath of insomnia rustles…
And against gravity stay eyes open.
"The pale breath of insomnia rustles"- awesome!
ReplyDeleteWowww :o ..dis is such a mature writing..smooth transitions, amazing expressions..n dat uncertainty of what d next line would say..u make d words speak..loved every bit of it..beautiful piece !! :)
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