Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Yash Sharma

As Memories Revisit

Twilight descends
on the minarets of the mind.
The pain swells
as memories revisit.

Pain is a stranger.
And though the heart is mine
it beats for others.
Why do the eyes well up?
It was, after all, a mere glimpse that I had.

Algae grows across
the pond of the mind
like a tenant one retains
to grapple
with one’s loneliness.

He claims
he fulfilled all the promises
I did not.
Who will ever decide?
Who has ever understood?
The crazy poet asks the skies:
“How come
the malleable sun
of January
is visiting me
in summer?”

As Memories Revisit

As Memories Revisit

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As Memories Revisit

Twilight descends
on the minarets of the mind.
The pain swells
as memories revisit.

Pain is a stranger.
And though the heart is mine
it beats for others.
Why do the eyes well up?
It was, after all, a mere glimpse that I had.

Algae grows across
the pond of the mind
like a tenant one retains
to grapple
with one’s loneliness.

He claims
he fulfilled all the promises
I did not.
Who will ever decide?
Who has ever understood?
The crazy poet asks the skies:
“How come
the malleable sun
of January
is visiting me
in summer?”

As Memories Revisit

Twilight descends
on the minarets of the mind.
The pain swells
as memories revisit.

Pain is a stranger.
And though the heart is mine
it beats for others.
Why do the eyes well up?
It was, after all, a mere glimpse that I had.

Algae grows across
the pond of the mind
like a tenant one retains
to grapple
with one’s loneliness.

He claims
he fulfilled all the promises
I did not.
Who will ever decide?
Who has ever understood?
The crazy poet asks the skies:
“How come
the malleable sun
of January
is visiting me
in summer?”
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