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

Jaya Chaudhary



Jaya Chaudhary




2 mins

The crimson blushes fetched it's flight,

Gifting away it's Afterglow

Soon slipped into tenebrous night,

There lays the red pulp in golden heart of the savior,

With his closed bronze eyes,

Living the success of his motherland,

Dieing with happiness he embraced.

The old sits crossing land apart

His ventures fed upon seas,

With an eye upon the hour glass,

That reminds him his argosies,

Placed in time upon the suit,

Happier who can be?

More than one that he embibed.

The fiasco was set by firelight,

In colours of bright workspace,

But existing in black charcoal grill,

Her crestfallen pallade swerves to Aroma of books

That his brother read

With tenebrous approaching, she peeps through the sky

Upon the heavens of blue stiches,

Across her waist and a tie down her neck

She that touches her vermilion and kisses her pious thread,

Crawls down the holy salt, all throu the cheeks,

Silent unsaid, unheard sobs treat her neck,

In memory of chaste touch and Signior in West

Welcomed by his captain in Pacific serene though,

The curve of turns like inverted rainbow.

That little, who chides over want of real friends,

Smiles upon the pictures that her dreams just scanned,

She cherished the pumpkin, bloom and horse,

Melodious name, of her minds bestow

In the course of being rich

She lost the real freshness of green meadow,

She smelt room fresheners and

Not the smug soaked land,

She touched the roses in flower vase

And the one that are lively indeed

Those who own mystic rhythm, positive meeds

Ask him, with willow in hands and broken tarts upon the chest,

Standing across the lane, to get a glimpse of his Mistress mundane

He slips into neon colour and chooses his perfect violet strand,

To present him as the suitor she can owe best,

He walks through the garden of his Empire Utopia,

Plucking the melodious bright flower,

To present to every dimensions of perfection,

That he loved in every days he was on the strech of bread line ..

So here that night all had a world,

A World in fantastic fallacy of Fantasies,

But all the glimmers of pain that thrived,

Swept away cuddling the spectra night,

And twitched the madness of burning days,

To the sweetest mellow nights,

All own there own colour

Some in spades of red blood others in orange argosies,

Some fetch the boundary that extends to blur azure sky,

Some painted there garden violet in ode of mistress signature eyes

All divine happiness isn't a big fat goal to achieve,

It's a sodden bird that locked in cage

Can set free in the eyes that's free

Of surrounding boundaries

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