I stared outside my window,
Unable to look away.
A part of me was in awe,
A I witnessed, 'history being made',
Though it wasn't this moment,
That had me captivated, spellbound.
It was the thousand biting pyres,
With more being lot every second,
That held me unwavering attention.
It was the melancholy sky, thundering,
That told me of Mother Earth's mourning.
And amidst this, I felt the claws of guilt,
Squeezing my with no mercy,
As I stood in comfort — Alive.
YOU ARE READING
Still, a thousand leagues to go...
PoetryPoetry is the most constructive conduit to let out your feelings, My pain, anger, hurt and joy... Previously known as 'Verity'
