Poetry

Past is a Bitter Poison

Past is bitter poison

Should ever one taste it,

Woe of longingness befall.

 

Can past be poison

If gone through

And died without dying.

 

The end of the road being certain,

How far, how wide or how abrupt,

Past has no role.

 

But we go back

Tracing a rainbow,

Rainbows, and limitations.

 

 

                                                       ~Saranyan BV

                                                            Bangalore, India

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