Parched Rose

I sat by the window

To write you a letter.

A ballad.

A book.

A Sentence.

Of our lost time together.

And after.

And now.

Perhaps for eternity.

Blurry eyes spill a drop on the parchment

But the words from the ink flow incessantly.

Of promises.

Of dreams.

Of a future departed.

Time turns back to the night

When you left without looking back.

Unspoken goodbyes.

False promises.

Incomplete love.

This letter will be yet another draft.

Not burned to ashes, my fickle heart.

But you will still know, won’t you?

And just leave me with a parched rose

With the last fumes of our time?


34 thoughts on “Parched Rose

  1. SMiLes.. my friEnd.. Prajakta..
    yoUr poem here is quite
    inspiRing.. second one
    from last
    and after
    writing a
    third of a million
    words.. in perhaps
    the longest dear
    John Letter
    in recorded
    i can relate..
    wITh wINks..
    aS trUly wE frEE
    thInkers.. feelErs..
    kNoWers.. can
    maKe a
    anY reaLiTy
    wE WiLL to reAl..
    aS BeautY oF poEtry
    iS iN tHe ShaRinG..
    GiVinG.. heARt
    iN balanCinG
    soUl.. wHeRe mUse
    iS juSt anotHeR woRd foR
    liFe mY friEnd.. so.. thanks
    for the muSe as the crediTs
    roLLinG foR inSpiRAtiOn oF
    LifE noW iS mUseDom…..:)


  2. Your poem here has a bit of modern taste unlike many others i have read in my life and i must say, few lines but one of my faavourates! Keep em coming 🙂 – Cezane


  3. I stood there,
    Below your window.
    Hiding in plain sight,
    As always;
    Escaping a fight.

    I didn’t have it in me,
    The power to set you free,
    That was false love that I had,
    Trying to be someone I can never be.

    The ashes of the burnt heart,
    The fumes of our times,
    Leaves me with a guilt,
    That kills a little part inside.

    This was very well written!


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