…The wait seemed endless. A new morning dawns and in no time dawn sets in. where does time go? Time runs at lightening speed, but the wait seems endless…
Every cloud has a story to tell.
A story of longing of hope of patience, of passion, of love and of wait,
But the wait seems endless.
There was a peculiar bond she shared with the clouds. No friends, no outlet to her emotions; but the clouds seemed to understand her. They reflected her emotions,
Her anger depicted by the gray clouds on the verge of bursting out, longing to shower down, longing to pour her heart out. But the winds seemed to blow them away. Her love, her happiness depicted by the woolpacks, promising her sun shine
Clouds wern’t one of the many signs that guided her life. She was complex but yearned for small gestures to brighten her day.
Yes she was waiting. Waiting for what? She did not know. Waiting fir whom? She never found out.
gr8 depiction of prose-poetry!..i guess many will relate 2 it as well as i did...
ReplyDeletehey i guess like amrit said everyone at one time or another has gone thru this phase. i remember myself going thru it. u word it nicely though. good job, have to read others yet.
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