Making my way through brown, dry leaves,
Which pave the way, like parched, crumpled
bits of paper.
Silently, my heart grieves,
As the past slowly fades, similar to a vapour.
Uncertainty envelops me, like a grey mist,
As my feet create a rustle, amongst dead
summer fronds.
I search for feelings that did subsist,
As my heart frees itself, from all past
bonds.
My toes long to dig into moist, soft sand,
My eyes, to be mesmerized by eternal, rosy
sunsets.
I search for an escape from this dry land,
To wander into a newness, one with no
regrets.
To the lush, green carpet of grass,
To the dew-studded, rows of carnations,
Where my heart is safe, even though made of
glass,
Where it speaks through words, free from
imitations.
Niharika Prasad
