Harud

 Under your fallen leaves I had my bed laid 
Under the crimson dried seeds of wisdom I lost my pen
Your journey got defeated by a gust of wind 
Weren’t you stood there harshest of storms…yet today the branch seemed distant 
Why so pale my wise leaf why you have masqueraded in the Color’s of Harud 
The river will soon be frozen the living will have their long sleep forsaken 
Soon the meadow will be naked 
Soon your entire journey will be lost in forgotten grounds
Your tale will be evergreen yet who’ll be there to recite
Cold breeze pathways of fog and mist
A burning fire in silence…isn’t death the all you ever waited for
Amidst the autumn why there’s sorrow 
Amidst sorrow why there’s a fulfilling comfort

You see it’s pain and discomfort and sorrow that’s poetic
It’s there elements that make something memorable…not comfort

By: Kshitij Sinha 
08/12/2022

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