Unowned
My journey is no longer mine
Owned by
Deceptive roads deceitful milestones
And friends who turned enemies
Also enemies who never became friends
After so much of living
Even death is unreachable
But I've sternly decided
To enter the last mile with a breathless poem
With whispering pine-trees clouds and rivers
I'll seep into soil like rain wearing my tuxedo of dark verses
Wet in tears of joy and sadness of a few
Whom I loved with overflowing hurt I caused
Before I do that
I want to sell springs
Wrapped in shivers of winters
Except the volumes of autumn I've packed to carry along
For unlike the rest
There never was a moment where heaps of dry leaves
Had ever unowned me
Copyright © Ibohal Kshetrimayum | Year Posted 2018
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