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Thursday, 19 November 2020

A Poet's Dream

 

Your memories drown me in tidal waves

Unpredictable, powerful, unrestricted

They cruelly, slowly engrave

My heart; its beats unheard.


Mostly, little insignificant moments,

A playful smile, a teasing voice

A voice which now torments

And yet I am left with no choice.


No choice but to embalm them in words,

Because isn't that what poets do 

To freeze every emotion which stirs

Every dream they fear wouldn't come true.


Too cynical to believe something could be so perfect

Between sweet nothings,

To hide their dreams, before reality could detect,

And spoil flawless things.


Niharika Prasad