a thirst,
is the dryness that floats from the throat
is the snow that burns everything
is the fire without a crackling voice
is the river polluted with a meaningless existence
is the reality drinking bottles of dreams
is the death despised deeply
is the shadow unloved
is a blessing and a curse.
is the human, too much loved.
© Shashank Bhardwaj
Nicely versed😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
Lovely 😊
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
bottles of dreams…how intoxicating
LikeLiked by 1 person
For the reality It would be, to get drunk on dreams.
LikeLiked by 1 person
alas…reality sobers you later
LikeLike
Not if you drink enough to avoid sobriety.
LikeLiked by 1 person
haha..a thirst..apt words in your poem
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person
welcome
LikeLiked by 1 person
Awe-inspiring words. :’)
LikeLiked by 1 person
Thanks Mohika 🙂
LikeLiked by 1 person