A PERISHED STORY
It rained heavily. Like hymns from a coffin, the dark clouds sang the death song. The lifeless lizards kept falling over the dusty room,and the fallen hairs were weeping.
Leaving behind a thousand untold stories, the soul freed itself from that fragile body.
It was not that she was insane, life hasn't treated her very fairly either. Like an artist who takes shape in chaos, she could have spilled hues in the blank pages of her life, she could have woven a carpet of dreams, could have kept her heads in clouds and explored an undiscovered world.
But life did plan a terrific surprise for her.
Love blooms a burnt heart, like a never ending fountain, it resonates with our core. But to her, love came in as a ferocious villian. It pierced her heart and made her life darker than the deep sea.
Eventually she loosened her body and left herself to the endless world.
Was that love? Verily not.
Love is not that trembles your lips or heats your blood. Rather, it is the pulse of a numb body. The solace. Indeed, an undescribable divine emotion.
- Rana Fathima
Comments
Post a Comment