while depicting the ‘Life’

                                                                  Pravin Rai Jumeli 

 

A brush dipped in yellow

am walking over the lonesome backdrop of ‘Wheatfield with crows’

are not shivering the Vangogh hands of painter

Words are aching

in the letters of Theo nowadays

and they’re aching voiceless

The walk that is with me always

is continuous as the flow of Rangit

feet are fettered with compulsion

to reach unknown somewhere

Waiting for a blue pastel

the incomplete desire to be portrayed as Irises

जवाफ लेख्नुहोस्

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