20 year old aspiring writer from india.sometimes i write poetry? iam not sure about it but it is poetical.)
Dreams
In between the past that are being yesterdays
and the future that carries the burden of hope,
I sewed the truth of present.
I knew earlier that this would happen.
The dreariness realised during the day.
The restlessness realised during the night.
Unexplainable! You filled the cosmos.
Even if there are many colours,
for my fiery love,
for my revolutionary vigour and
for the blood I scattered,
you gave red gulmohars.
And in the glimpse of that memory, I live.
For my uncharted wanderings,
there is no beginning and end without you.
In the parade of failures; I, me, myself being the truth,
I'm once again searching for the enigma that you are.