Something beautiful, more like a pen with dying words. She lived her life in search of answers, alone in the darkness, tears were never the part of her journey, her soul was. Mostly broken and with a dream full of friends, lovers and goodbyes, she sang a song she wrote with whiskey on her breath and a thought in her heart. A thought carrying everything she was made from, a little soft inside and a little dark outside, she was a mirage reflecting what the world wanted to see not what she used to be, in a life which was drowning in a lake full of dreams, a life which she questions in a confusion, weather to fall in love with it or let it just flow like a lonely cloud.

Whistle on her lips

And a song carrying her ships

her childhood, her memories

cold stones and scattered revelries

An innocent love, with a heart for all

she was just a poem,

Not a door but an open wall.

Something more magical, more like a musical. She danced under the tree, tree made of stars, a tree made of raining darkness, changing shades with each and every step of her happy feeling, trying not to hide and be a mystery she danced under the moon and her love of crazy sky holding all her memories.

I am a short diary, do not wait for me

like a flame I appear and disappear

fall for me, dive deep for me

forever is a lie and a moment is true

so if not today then tomorrow

be my love or be my sorrow

~ Blind and Loved, She Smiled

Poetry

Floating Epiphany
Author- Pradeep
https://floatingepiphany.wordpress.com/

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