Turn the Page, Turn the Life | A Writer’s Battle for Survival | Help Her Win
Turn the Page, Turn the Life | A Writer’s Battle for Survival | Help Her Win

Gauri Mathur



Gauri Mathur




2 mins

You ask me why I look up at the clouds,

Why I stare at the stars,

Why I long the moon,

And why I seem to soar in the endless sky.

I pity those

who don't look up at the shamrock- chartreuse hues of the mahogany,

And miss out the shimmering mist,

Stand still with my face in the breeze,

Close my eyes and feel its cold embrace.

The cold has its unique scent,

It thrills, It chills.

Those who don't sit by the windows,

In the evenings.

And look out as the world unfolds,

When the sky turns azure,

The firmament turns pale,

The world's asleep,

That's when rise

The midnight sun shines so bright.

Glimmering lives beneath,

A thousand people,

And a thousand tales.

I'm in love with the sky,

Fly among the aves,

Towards the endless horizon.

Over the seas and the crust

Watching over, at the world.

Walked barefoot on the grass,

'Fresh cut grass smells of distress,

It smells of trauma'.

Honey, then I must be a monster

'Cause I fell in love with the coarse bermuda.

I'm obsessed with the greens and the blues,

With the fragrance and the hues.

I'm addicted to the taste,

To your clasp on my waist.

The sky turns grey,

Lifeless? Tranquil, I say.

Our stark accord

Dead. Tarnished. Desolated.

Give me your hand,

I'll show you off to the world.

Cheesy enough.

Show me your darkness,

I'll light up a fire inside.

Show me the celestial,

And I'll set my soul on fire.

When the cosmos take over,

In peace

And in violence,

The show goes on.

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