The dark lane

A budding bloom nipped in the bud,
A gleaming gloom spread all around.
Piercing shriek was crushed inside,
But the news spread far and wide.
To talk was easy, but to bear the pain,
Was like revisiting the dark lane,
Again and again.
The bud doled out tears of blood ,
from all her pores.
Matter soon quietened ,
But she had still her soul left sore.

This entry was posted in Poetry on by .

About Nalini Srivastava

I am an Indian.I write to let go of myself.It is my catharsis.My biggest inspiration is my son and every passing moment of life.I am a teacher by profession and the way I love to write ,I love to teach.With my one solo poetry book already published "Feminine Musings" hope many more will see the light.

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