Peacefully Victimized Poem by Prakhar Sharma

May I start now before the barren land of sorrow takes away my highness?
Will it be appreciated my running away through her fields?
The horizon of our dullness, could it fulfil her gulf of numbness?
If the river is flowing along with the birds chirping, can it reach the sand of her shore? Not her virginity, but my debut can raise her hand's toast, and her lips will glitter our banished blundered beauty.
Forever will be your querencia my hiraeth?
Moments of time are momentum of blues, is that why sky is the limit?
Fiction is the hoax of our blended agony; facts are lost with the child's illness.
We are in the mirage of shimmering constellation, it's time to set free.
A sigh of my hyperventilated exhalation, isn't that a stairway against history's chasing seclusion?
Rusted clouds can't be neglected, the saga of our unicorn, broken thorn and the mended dawn.
Yes I see you there in the field alone. Your palpable sorrow. My cuffed helplessness.