CrumbledA Poem by Aishwarya Prem
In a state of trance, Me and my shadow,
Lie mellowed out on the sack Humming to the stereo, Having occassional sips Of my warm caffeine potion. Asudden, a retreated scribe peeks within, Giving the itch to scribble on a rag.. After hours and hours of peering, Efforts are turning into vain As words still remain astray. No longer, can I write between lines. Searching for a verse, Strained and dispossessed. With forsaken hopes, I comprehend My fire has faded. A void fills up As I linger between A recluse and a reveller, Nothing has been benefited And I crash in this battle between two worlds.
© 2017 Aishwarya PremFeatured Review
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18 Reviews Added on February 10, 2017 Last Updated on February 10, 2017 AuthorAishwarya PremChennai, IndiaAboutAn amateur writer I would love to hear ur reviews about my works more..Writing
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