a poem by Pratik More

Empty spaces between the lines of my papers are
Filled by silence that grows like the jungle grass
It’s thick and dark shielding from the broken glass
Where I sit and sing the melancholy of my tarot cards
Swim in my scars, to see what the angels are

You’ll find a masterpiece painted with the raven’s heart
All these random thoughts whispers to the fallen stars
That I melted into shadows like negatives of photographs
Driven by the rhythm when rain hits my solitude
Vibrating molecules my pen kissed the storm you threw
And I grew, through picture painted in the morning dew
Wiping Monday blues for my breath in hanging noose
Paper kissed my misery turned it to a symphony
Flying through air by burning in my agony
Holding memories of the kiss of phantom lips
Would you swim in poetries that I left in autumn leaves

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