The scattered dust slept soundly,
layering articles once cherished; under the sheets of worthlessness.
In the asylum of forgotten things, faces, memories, people, sunsets and photographs we wandered until got lost.
Collecting fragments of those blissful dusts, a smile sparkled.
Nooks of the places we abandoned, to move on with life, grew darker and we stood midst those collapsing bridges that led us to those places.
Collecting the fragments of things that we broke by ourselves,
got bended, twisted and crafted into stars –Broken stars.
Frozen tears in heart started dancing in the dark sky,
the dust turned into stardust.
In the chasms and voids we filled the broken stars.
the twinkle of stars are witnessed in our eyes,
doodling stars in hearts of whoever sees the twinkle.
The stars won't stop burning,
shall lead us through the dark night,
would fall so we could wish upon them,
they may burn out of light but never of hopes.
We spend our entire life looking for the Moon present in other's life and forgot to look under our feet where laid burnt out stars, in our chest where stars danced, in our mind where constellations were held and our tongue that spilled stars when we talk.
.
YOU ARE READING
Drowning on Land
PoetryThe "Drowning on Land" is a collection of poems and quotes expressing little, but vital details we all learn while stepping in for various responsibilities. Its great in expanding the ideal beauty and vivid image of suffering, joy, yearning, courage...