The Image

by Harry

Submitted by Neha Mehta


An unfathomable exasperation fighting out fate,
Weary eyes making the talks before they separate.

The image stands etched, in her heart’s alcoves,
Time rushed fast and yet stood still
For many have been crushed under life’s drill
The image comes back piling up in night’s troves.

Too soon it was, for her to realize what will it take?
It was still enough to shake her current state.
The image stands etched, cracking her on those blue days,
All she wants is, paint sun’s whispering gaze.


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