The last drop of affection
Has left me too soon.
My desire is like a dew.
The world is like the sun
That burns my tranquility.
Yet, I open these nascent eyes.
My days pass too quick,
Only longings get intensified.
I am a clear mirror
For the casted intentions.
I conceal nothing
Unlike the closed book.
A warm pilgrimage
To simplicity,
I take elegance with
Gardening efforts
That results colorful scent
Out of colorless soil.
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© Sushant Thapa
Biratnagar-13, Nepal
Picture Nick Victor
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