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Scene & Heard (SNH)

Scene & Heard is where readers, writers, artists, photographers, creatives gather to observe and showcase their artistry…

Intelligence

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You saw me,
Like a still mountain,
Carrying all these green trees,
Infallible rocks, the sweet chirp,
And a stark silence,
Among the
woods,
And moss,
Until you sharpen your eyes,
Like a piercing knife,
And start incising every trees,
and study their trunks,

Dig the hole enough
To see, the dampness
That lies inside me,
I let you see,
The every empty shell,
The withers, the smell of wretched old suffering,
And the cracks left by the storms,
When you fragmented me enough,
A speck of filthy mud, remained,
With the sadness in your eyes,
You stood, no more sharp with your intellect,
From a still mountain,
To a shattered mud,
I was on your feet,
Weeping,
Upon my own wilt,
There I asked you,
“Do you still adore me?”
Your heart was pounding faster
And eyes divinely filled with tears,
Then,
We cried unapologetically, together,
There we transcended our whole existence;

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Vaghawan Ojha
Vaghawan Ojha

Written by Vaghawan Ojha

A drop of water you could see that dumbly awaits in vain to spill and be a stream: Alas there is sunshine.

Scene & Heard (SNH)
Scene & Heard (SNH)

Published in Scene & Heard (SNH)

Scene & Heard is where readers, writers, artists, photographers, creatives gather to observe and showcase their artistry…