That day, the adamant me surmised, Mahogany was the getaway, I yearned for, No, it didn't provide ayurvedic cure to my camouflaging dogmas, Neither to my aching voodoo doll, it had already burst off the agony. Didn't lend solutions to Math problems
Yet, an Oracle, that sprinkled life in this dead and delphic conscience, The bed of shed emerald leaves, loaned some sleep to swollen eyes, bereft of sweet lullabies, Dendritic, umber roots, reach out to my soul, Bringin' to surface the stifled identity, Holding it intact, an adhesive to the pieces.
Swingin' on branches, never cracked When I held 'em, Taught me how grief is To be dealt, how leaves fall each Autumn, And emerald blooms again, every spring. How it firms its bough against the zephyr's Punches, bargains with Sun's heat. Few people are supposed to leave and Let gone, like several twigs that fall off it.
Today, there I stood, watched my comrade Bleed, incessant pain, I felt, My cicatrix was fresh again, black-blue, It was cut, to fulfill man's oozing greed, It's fallen petals, reminiscence of our bond, Like Naphthelene balls, spread its aroma and Vaporized away, fell on knees to the man's Avarice, after surmounting the sun and wind. _________________________________________________ Picture from Pinterest @despair@sereiin@seyfert@soulfulstirrings@jeelpatel#ceesreposts @_hessa_@__aurora__@lily_love
Visualize this color. Think of what it makes you feel. What it stands for. What the story hidden in it could be. Then create a short story, drabble, one - line story, poem, anything that takes your fancy.