“A spring that tries to breathe” – Nayana Nair

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The ripples spread out and march
towards the far end of happiness.
They die and are born again
under the wish of my yet-to-break mind.
I am carried to the place that was never made for my sake
but yet seems to be made out of a piece of me, of my own heart.

The far end of everything
has this one branch and this one bird.
This one song that seems
to be something sent by the heavens,
something that can’t be given in my hands,
something too precious, too beautiful to be bestowed to me.
Maybe for a reason, that I will realize too late.
But how do I stop before that.

I am always at the far end of wanting.
The perfect distance to always be aware,
to know what could be and yet know what isn’t.
At this end also, inside me, inside this hollow haunting,
is also a tree, a bird, a song.
Even if made of dust
it is my own drowning lighthouse-
my only spring that tries to breathe, retain its humble peace
before I reach my ruin. Before I learn why I must give up
what I always knew I can’t have.

4 Comments

    1. Nayana Nair says:

      Thanks a lot for the reblog πŸ™‚ Really glad that you liked it πŸ™‚ πŸ˜€

      Hope you are doing well. πŸ™‚

  1. There are some lovely mystical elements in this to challenge the reader. Very nice to read.

    1. Nayana Nair says:

      Thanks a lot πŸ™‚ Really glad that you enjoyed my work and all the layers it comes with. Means a lot πŸ™‚

      Have a beautiful day ahead. πŸ™‚ πŸ˜€

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