The Orchestra of the Deep
Ringing on the heap
Having thousands of mystries
Of the past gone histories
Hundreds of yatchs
Millions of sharks
Billions of fish schools
Swimming in a giant pool
One fish talking to its friend
Which didn't have an end
It is not silent
But not also violent
Don't disturb it
Don't currupt it
Let the Orchestra of the Deep go on there
Without any fear or any care
By
Ashlesha Dubey
YOU ARE READING
Trembling Hands Wet Canvas
PoetryWounds heal but scars remain , Time passes fast , what goes slow is pain. Sailing in sea alone in the boat , Sound to the agony , in the words coat Dig in.... And you won't regret !
