This dry wind evoked
the strings of my heart
As it passed by
With the baggage of memories
that once i cherished
acts as a balm to my wounds.
The petrichor reminisces me
of the barren land of my mind
that once was a fertile land of dreams
The spark of passion is a mere illusion now
As i lay awake on my pillow stained with regrets.
©prashujya
P