She always loved,
The loud scars, imperfections,
In people, in herself,
Thought it ties the tales.
Stronger forever.
Started to immerse,
Her unversed heart,
So in the dark, she,
filled it with evil,
Left no place,
For obscure affairs.
She knew,
as she stared,
Across the black void.
The wrong in her,
and others in her world.
Vague, indifferent.
A thought,
In disguise,
Tiptoed, into her
ever-reigning psyche.
Rustled to lose control.
—
Blog | Rajat Pradhan 