I
Reading was one of the few things
which she could get her eyes and soul to
dance in complexity of simple harmonic swings
II
he was always that silent guy
stuck in the corners
like the shadow of the apple tree
where Newton had sat on otherside
never will she know the nights
he gave up on sleep , just
to turn the draft into novels
III
She was always that doomed heroine
not only in those pages
but in the commas of reality .
she was sailing the foreign crowds -
those books born in vernacular ink
never made it to her glass armored eyes ...
A.N. Inspired from a poem by _Ruuu_
YOU ARE READING
Reverie
PoetryA collection of poems. It had reached #1 in #stair out of 55 stories and had been maintaining it since then till 09/09/19.
