in your length, of life
you give lessons, of depth
your soul stuffed, in a hard shell
carols its heart, till the last breath
living for nothing, but to give
by your darkness, you make a lamp
held in these palms of the world
you hold the story of every soul
growing smaller, in every sunset
as the world you script, expands
to touch our nothingness, and liberate
thank you, dear pencil
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Posted on April 20, 2015 at 3:47 PM in Poetry, Venkat | RSS feed
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