writing
Devoid of words or clear thoughts
Melodic empty casts -
Pulsate and gently flow inside,
Silent resolve of ocean tides,
My net obtains the catch at last.
Compulsion begs me to admire
I learn their scales by heart.
My neck is burnt, the day has passed
Announcing the oncoming dusk,
With nothing but the morning batch I will depart.
Posted Jun 13, 2016, 8:11 PM UTC · edited
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