Impressions

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inked pages of past

with ink so sloppy, it seeps

impressions mislay,

the contour of tomorrow’s theme

 

see,

 

faded fossils of young me,

a palimpsest overlaid

with scribble and shapes to fit

the legibility, else disarrayed

 

©Written Frames, 2018

 

Prints

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graffiti of time, so layered with grime

lost is her luster, accustomed eyes’ crime

 

scatter some white, the powder on her rind

cloak of cellophane tape to wrap and bind

 

stiff is the nude, her transparency chastised

scrape off, such scarred impressions she hide

 

testimony of love, lust and of dying stars

fingerprints of lost lovers, the skin so marred

 

embossed in such doleful memoir is her skin

the recital of handprints she was cradled in

 

gather the latent, dust off these remains

off memory, off complaint, so free of stains

 

weep, weep, let her weep all she needs

scrub it off, wipe it off, score her skin till it bleeds

 

behold her blank wall, o the artists enthralled

an exotic art awaits her to cherish and own

 

she deserves

 

© Written Frames, 2018

Image Source: Pinterest

 

Mighty Echo Of The Past

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Time is the mightiest they say-

Lonesome, shroud and adamant,

It lingers for none

Doesn’t wait for that someone

Promises love to no one.

It advances, on and on

Befriending only dynamic souls,

The foes left with regretful holes

Ruthlessly it curses, and goes on.

 

Ever wondered about mighty memories

How gracefully it hovers by

A beautiful echo of the past,

Spellbound to surrender, a mystic lullaby;

Wind drools in silence, rivers it dried

Leap of days and reality

A home to soul, in ruins of past I do find;

Helplessly stuck at the whims of heart

It is the time which is undermined.

Mighty

ImageSource:Pixabay