The evening hangs on branches.
Dusk. Dust. Quietude.
Rustling of leaves.
Whispers of yesterdays.
Beautiful slideshow.
Long time!
And I yearn to steal,
from the scrapbook of life,
pages, where we had inked
our togetherness.
Forgive me, I hear your voice,
and forget to breathe.
The susurrations of syllables,
leave sultry goosebumps, on my soul.
Still. After all this while. Everytime. Always.
Dusk. Dust. Quietude.
Rustling of leaves.
Whispers of yesterdays.
Beautiful slideshow.
Long time!
And I yearn to steal,
from the scrapbook of life,
pages, where we had inked
our togetherness.
Forgive me, I hear your voice,
and forget to breathe.
The susurrations of syllables,
leave sultry goosebumps, on my soul.
Still. After all this while. Everytime. Always.
Linking with
I like how the imagery and emotions flow hand in hand.
ReplyDeleteThank you so much Srivalli for such kind and encouraging words
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