Thursday, February 19, 2015

The Whispering Bole

I know that moment
when my fingers pressed
against the cracked lines
your history unleashed
and so was mine.

The moment when I stood
in silence beside you
our spirits talked
and a wish passed my lips
on this barren sidewalk.

The beauty of silken tears
fallen in the same rhythm
connecting two crushed hearts
saving pieces of broken promises
a biting section of organic arts.

Smiles fabricated in hope
sprung as the breeze blew
solidarity can turn the lonely
darkness from the inside out
at times only nature has remedy.

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