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Subrat SaurabhAuthor of Kuch Woh PalVisible, invisible,
A fluctuating charm,
An amber-colored amethyst
Inhabits it; your arm
Approaches, and
It opens and
It closes;
You have meant
To catch it,
And it shrivels;
You abandon
Your intent—
It opens, and it
Closes and you
Reach for it—
The blue
Surrounding it
Grows cloudy, and
It floats away
From you.
The 2 Am Thoughts
Drowsy eyes,
Long-lost in breath;
Bitten lips,
Curved in icy slate~
She must stay awake…
Garnered flakes of her dissolved heart,
Now firm & heavy,to dust apart…
Too drenched in blue,no life to hold~
Lingerin' despair,in stubborn mold…
The choice she had to make…
The disabled soul to tune in harmony,
Feasting on voiceless sound~
Frosty mind now sleeping tight,
No trace of echo over dusty ground….
Her wound has taken over the ache…
Lonely bubble of ancient agony,
Wrapped in a dark stoic symphony~
Ageing finer than whatever holy,
The immersed void of resting melancholy…
A home she could never forsake!
-Arani Acharjee
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