Blue Hole

In the seamless sky of my fervent freedom I let the enraptured songbird of heart soar high, gliding in the spring-rippled amorous breeze that carried your jasmine fragrance to me, until the splitting thunder storm surged in from your hazy horizon receding to obscurity, anguish of desertion crushed the wings of longing. The crippled bird folded the collapsed wings, painfully crumbled like autumn’s dislodged dry leaf in my mangled mind that turned into pangs of grief, desolate in ruined nest made of emotion called twig. The ruptured voice untuned the bird’s song, disabled flight of subdued passion lost the sky, chilled to stillness in the shadow of winter cloud. Unshed tears froze in the blue crevasse of glacial gloom, the pain of broken heart languished frozen unexpressed. What in the end you would remember of me… an off-course forlorn fading star losing the orbit, sucked up by the blue hole of dense despair, where the soul disappeared in timeless oblivion. May 16, 2021 For Brian Strand's Contest : A Brian Strand Your Pick