dream, Fiction & Poetry, fiction and poetry, Life, Love, Poems, Poetry

Promised Children.

Dance to the frivolous melodies,
the time still remains.
We are still children,
sobered under the sun,
sobered by the rain.

A memory is a drop wiped away from the lips,
A potent taste was forgotten on purpose.

To become a child, forget your hands first.
The rain envelops the waves of time,
so learn to close your eyes,
long enough without sleeping
without drifting without crying
and the present will wash off itself
You will be on a ground,
with fresh wet grass,
Your dog still alive,
the cakes do not make you fat,
it’s beautiful,
as it should be,
as I was promised,
long ago.

© Shashank Bhardwaj



4 thoughts on “Promised Children.

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