Baggage

Priyanshi shah

As the sky breathes gray,

The moon is lost in his phase,

I saw a crossing where colors flow,

In the morning sunlight,

Along the stream losing herself in the deep, the sinking of leaves,

That little joy of life,

Lost in thoughts and interpretations,

And here we are in between,

In the sphere of logic and sensitivity,

Holding up the beauty in our eyes and memories in our souls,

To share the tales of passing by,

The nightmares of dreams,

The remembrance of fragile things,

The loss of a person with sagas of wounds,

That unsaid encounters,

We protect them from moment to moment,

Feeling that massiveness to sense nothing,

We wander here and there to reveal that tiny spark,

Which dwells within,

Carving walls and bridges,

To hide in this illusion of endless baggage,

Losing the presence of the present,

As fear manipulates our lives and we live…

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