a/ Palette of cycle

What becomes out of a light that perches on the shade?
A coma or a complete sentence?
Does a wound heal if exposd to a skin’s love?
What becomes of a translucent onion that can not be further minced?
A life comes with a moment of quietness through the lens of wet eye.
A doctor’s favourite fruit is perhaps death and a game meddling with his blue arm.
My front doors are always open / so that I may see vintage skyline opening up it’s tongue to dissolve my small limbs into it’s
system.
A gramophone that listens up my cries at the night.
What shall happen to my knuckles once they float in the air?
Oh, don’t be scared right now.. (atleast not for sometime).
I have walls painted in the color of blood, the golden hour of melting pain
The paradoxes of life have a strange sniff attached to it. Life takes no side, it slips in terror and terror. I stare at a flower, and I ask what about you?
Will you live or remain isolated?

P.S DO read my other work on my insta handle @myvaliantsoul

An update

Hey everyone!

So, I have been missing from WordPress from like an eternity due to certain reasons. I havent read anything here. I have missed reading and posting my poems both. I am just dropping a Hi here to know how things have been with you guys. I hope everything is going well with everyone.

Will be posting some poems soon.

olive skins accepting submissions- https://oliveskins.com/

Meanwhile, you can read my poems on my insta handle @myvaliantsoul.