View Poem by sarita jenamani

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The window does not open
to destiny
It opens
to the fatigued face
of an old sun
To dust and grass
A nameless path
Birds flying
with shards of sky
in their beaks
Two desperate eyes
on their way back home
A swarthy despondency overcomes me

Monday, June 27, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: philosophical
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