24 | stories
—7th June, 2023
Gold shimmers fall back in the silver pecks, as tales of different roads always meet with their bridges. Something between, in the withering autumn blooms and blankets of cold, embracing your living-hot-being. The child played with toy cars, now riding a playstation. Those hands, to support and lean on shoulder, lost their own way. As I stepped on the pitch black road, I found myself in the sand, where it's trying to grasp but between heavy weights of two different ones — pushing upwards and backwards. If it's destined to be— then be it, befitting with stolen gazes.
One is trying to get it, the other one is losing their fingertips. It's a sense of call-out, yes when the dust plays with golden flames. A fire, blazing on your chest — beginning to shape the infinity stones. But time isn't for infinity, right? So, I will be where I meant to be. The sands fickle from the store houses, slips out with radiated sparks — sparkling of water sands, of course standing with a husky laugh. I've been fighting for so long with the flow ebbs, now the dry heaps nor the signs of birdsong cajoled the cryptic wisdom. Gone is gone forever, the sky is grimacing with soft glow, finally sinking with time.
With the melting blue and gloaming. . . .
'I will never let it go, it is mine.'
'I'll let you go because you were never mine.'
'Letting you go is harder than holding on, so I will let you go this time.'
'I will let you go, wait til' forever, if you are meant to be; you will always come back.'
'I'll never chase for what's not mine, so let it go this time.'
'I'll let you go maybe because something better is waiting for me.'
'I will let you go even if it's for better, but I know it will never be you.'
'I cannot but let you go even if you're a destruction.'
'I refuse to let you go when you're my only hope.'
'I'll let you go since love ain't a meaning to keep you caged.
'For what's mine, I'll fight over my last breath too but let it go in a free sphere.'
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Mystic notions | ✎
Poetry//clattering thoughts, jumbling ruth // forever lies, forever prejudiced // fumbling fingers, dipped in dangling // [ a prose poetry collection ] ━━━━━━━━ #16 on poetry ( 03.12.2022 )
