Look at her skin
made up of glass, so nebulous.
The flowers of dead
with roots so cavernous.
Dripping into her fissure,
was the overflowing stem.
In the night of grey,
her lungs start to collapse.
In the sea of blue,
her shell starts to lull.
In the middle of life,
her smile starts to crack.
Of a life so fresh and insipid,
under the waves of black,
though she was home,
Why was the fear flying
with no fear?
~Sampurna
YOU ARE READING
Ink And Echoes
Poetry♚ ❛ Juliet, Tell me what is it like to vanquish - When you tossed the coin, And stepped on the battleground, With the accent of swords. Still you stand, Hands dripping of sin. In search of Romeo, You killed, And killed, And died. ❜ { Highest rank in...
