SOUL

Long colour pencils,

A feeble attempt to sketch

To fill the void with colours

To do something constructive,

As the perfect deck of cards

Tumbles one after another…

The threads of a perfect seam,

Split at the edges

To give way to ruin.



Scattered seeds of a half eaten apple,

Dregs of a cold cup of tea,

Crumbles of biscuits,

And little bits of flour…

Till even the remnants

Begin to conceal and deceive

Leave me wondering,

Leave me wanting…