Burning papers

Youthful dreams
singed
by naysayers.
Loved ones whose spirit could not support

your hopes.
Future happiness
cut short by dejection
wreaking havoc on your mind.
Madness an option.
A tough route

bridging day and night.
No one would
bother
to look for you.
Absence and presence
are the same

black.
A color of choice
incompatible with your feathered friend
who cloaks himself
in mystery.
You celebrating recognizable thoughts.

Departure.
Solving for yourself.
Guidance sings the crow’s “cah cah”.
New song
from the ashes of singed paper.
Miracle.

 

Poetry

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