Posted in Poems

Lover Nature

The chest of drawers,
Folded carefully is the organized filth
Of unorganized remnants, insomniac.

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Posted in Poems

Finite

Finite,
The cadaverous claustrophobia of infinity
The imbecile allusion of termination.

Finite,
The sands of infinite affections
In an impatient hourglass.

Finite,
The pause between numbers,
In an uncountable havoc.

Finite,
The curvature of your lips,
Slithering through the narrow gape.

Finite,
The throw of eternal firmament
In a yellow hued canvas.

Finite,
The relentless synonymous decay
Of this enticing Scarlett.

Finite,
The circles we ride upon,
Until the battery dies.

~Amartya.


#Napowrimo day 11, poem 5.

© Jumbled Letters.