When time stands still

She counts the hours, by the rays of the Sun,
she counts her breath, from when it begun.
She counts the strangers from
the shadows that come.
She waits among the blur
of the day, but only for one.
He makes her complete; he listens,
he talks, he is the winsome one;
the only one to whom she has succumbed.
Her life now revolves around a dream she’s spun,
the shadows come and go, gnawing,
clawing: eroding her soul.
She waits still, unmoving, unnerved,
for her exoneration is in the silent
love embedded, deep in his heart.
©Copyright Suverchala Kashyap
  (Inspired by the oldest profession of the world)




Comments

Beautiful and so touching......
Suverchala said…
Thank you Prakhar...
Frank said…
Whilst one cannot complete perfection? Biscuit by Portishead would be a suitable sound track for this particular blog. In my humble opinion of course.
Frank said…
Here is a contrition moment ( all that Catholic guilt! ) not the Biscuit track but the Glory box track from the Dummy CD 1994. Sorry once again also apologies for the post-punk musical sensisbility!





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