The Piano keys,
Bar and Jazz,
Lavish lights,
That goes dark and light again.
Forsaken memories,
Drunken spontaneity.
Words do any good?
They bleed but heal too.
They dream and wake up too.
When the pebble in your shoes
Become the hill for you
You can rely on the taste of the words.
Shelter from the snow,
A cold numb blizzard outside,
Dreamy stupor
Visiting a few departed images of a poem.
The yellow music that wafts like air.
I am taken away
Taken aback to the cold mountains treat
A retreat to the child of cosmos days
When everything felt like close
And green.
A barefoot garden walk,
A free reclaim.
Written by Sushant Thapa
Biratnagar, Nepal