Withered with unprecedented hopes,
Crumbles like dust on a hopeless day.
The light of awakening,
On the flat ceiling,
Peeling off the dead in pieces.
I flow through the burnt pages,
Veiled by ashes.
Chocking and gasping,
As I go, a distance phenomenon
Unfolds like a young blossom.
Through grey she looks,
As I run naked,
With pursuit of a hunter
And fate of being hunted.
There in formless grey,
Flames ablaze, her singeing glaze,
Like a firefly in a wildfire,
I fly and fly and fly…
©Jumbled Letters 2018.
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