Why would this verse turn so barren ?
With the pink smudged on an arterial wall
Lost in a battle sans wagon
growing into a crippled nightfall
drenched in those bubbles oozing out
witnessed by those iridescent eyes
Blown away by a storm of doubt
sun sets at the end of fervour lies
Sequent growls of a crescent moon
brims up the intertwined souls
forging a seamless merry tune
And a deafening loopholes
I stroll down the sunset boulevard
lenses entrapping the hues off guard.
An effort to sue up your minds with a sonnet. We all have a knack of getting stunned at pink sunsets and yet again I was. There’s a quiz I should wage upon I guess😅:-
That how many love stories have been weaved in those clichéd sunsets?
(Atleast one out of 3 young- bloods have this tendency to cherish the setting sun with their love by their side..😄)