• jaggery 6w

    Some days


    Clean bags and neat books symbols the first day of a school.
    and your attendance was to pay attention on me. Like it's holy for me met


    So these hard walls
    melt on my lips when I kiss you
    and my imagination goes
    a little wild

    I need is a little rain to cry,
    Before the shroud helps me to fly,

    No,don't blame me,its not that I never tried,
    With each try, one by one veins dried,

    When I was brought  here,
    I had a little eyes with ocean blue stare,
    That were to wonder the beautiful earth,
    Have admired too less since the time of birth
    That were once enchanted by sights of dreams,
    Are now the one sobbing silent screams,

    In this castle of dark,
    I'm not the one parked,
    All of us, are common a like,
    Some lost there sight like me,
    Some voice were set free,
    Most served as fodder to accident,
    No voice was left to repent,

    It is a trap,
    I just want a shroud to my soul dry,
    All I need is a little drop to wet me whole,
    And let me flow,
    Taking me to the black hole.
    ©jaya_chaudhary


    Prompt - September, but the leaves aren't dry

    Staggering September, sets its steps
    in marijauna of greyish brown mulberries
    Like saten is out of hell
    to address the audience in chaos.


    Lethal tiaras of darkness hovers
    with humidity
    s o a k i n g
    cottons and keratin
    in marshes of equator.

    The evaporated love that fumed in last
    winters with a leftover
    rose amid folds of the quilts
    smells fresh
    like enigmatic season
    with no symbols to dry.


    Maybe for

    Another Jo, to survive the hoping
    ivy
    that blooms in drying showers.
    The love and its rose would
    kill fetish pneumonia
    again
    to breed in the October heat.

    © Jaya Chaudhary
    © Jaggery