
The moments
of despondency
Mystifying
her soul
Whirled its
course
Leaving the
print of its hushed trails
For him to
supervene
Overlooking
the scars
The wind
blew fading them away
As the years
passed like a cupid’s arrow
The abysmal
wait for the familiar guest
Continued
like an infinite string of memories
Borne out of
grief
Making her young feet tad old
Her fingers,
rosy white to pale yellow
She still
ardently waited for the...