In a sly womb of closed hearts
Where many a breath dies away,
Lives a tomb of resurrection.
For memories, mine, blown away.
A lament to the dark skies
Shushed by the day-blooms,
Chokes in the tenderness
Of a throaty dead gloom.
A vulture's slow laughter,
Its various plumes spread,
Pulls over the dead roots,
And large oaks fall dead.
A teardrop too precious,
Falls deep into lost seas.
Salty sweet, a misty pearl
Lost forever, unseen.
In a story of lives- unlived,
Breathes a tale - unsaid.
A lone song bursts out; and
I pray, colour me red.
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