Sky Soaked with Fire, poetry by Suman Pokhrel at Spillwords.com
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Sky Soaked with Fire

Sky Soaked with Fire

written by: Suman Pokhrel

@sumanpokhrel

 

Soft touches of fragrance of affection
deeper than the imprints of kisses,
have surely separated from me
hiding behind some abstruse backdrops.

Unseeing, even when seen
unfeeling, even when felt,
to those scattered loves
and the abashments that meet the eyes,
I had tried to brush them off
and indeed, had wiped them away.

Beneath a romantic, yet melancholic dusk sky,
the roads continue meandering, in their
own rhythm, as I gazed into them,
moments continue scattering
as I kept living them.

In those moments,
sighs hung on immense dilemma.

In that vagueness,
as if entering the realm of youth itself were a crime,
as if casting eyes upon a scene were a sin,
as if living a life for an entire lifetime were a curse.

Yet, those skies of love were
still filled with love,
those countless moments of youthhood
were still delirious with youthfulness.

I had been longing for a moment,
once again, for myself.
I had been living a moment
just like I was living myself.

In that moment and the moments surrounding,
walls were there, but not for me,
soils were there, but not for me,
times were there, but not for me.

Fire was flowing around,
and sweat was getting evaporated
to accomplish their own tasks.

None were acting in my favor.

All the loves were soaked, carrying
the sky upon their shawl.

The roads kept journeying,
the houses kept staring.

Everyone
was preforming their own duties,
everyone was searching for their own being.

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