• nipunya_panda 30w

    The Beginning of the End

    Talk to me when
    my metaphors grow
    you would see my
    anchors dropping
    at the sight of
    That is probably
    how warriors give up,
    when defenses are
    demolished in wars
    we seek-
    that is probably
    how ironies build up,
    when desires are
    sword from one
    end, and bandage
    from the other.

    Find me drawing
    names on sand that
    look less like
    memories and more
    like obliterations;
    you would find stacks
    of letters in between
    them, tied with cords
    too tight, glues too
    That is probably where
    speeches end, and
    silences begin,
    how lost trails
    make us nomad,
    and streets become