Magic of upcoming
April is the month of dust,
With little vagaries of winter that’s unknown
Changes life, like it must.
Like bonnet around a countenance,
It reveals yet delightfully decides to conceal,
Grace lovers behold in abstinence.
The first April dawn renewed
Crisp hopes, oh! Did they grime because
I got diverted and dreams flew.
Now, memories of lost desires
Walks by my side, laughing at mine
Wretched being, fate never tires.
I am awed by the magic
Of upcoming hence the time couldn’t tell
Tales of today- that’s tragic.
So I continue in this aisle
Where April hurt me, and shall it heal
With truths unsaid ….and lies.
By- Tanya agarwal