a poem by Satheesan Rangorath, India - poetry writer, author, poet

I visit you every morning,
feeling fresh from every grain of sand,
tickle my feet.
I trod through fallen flowers,
and crushed dry leaves of destiny.
Stale smell of fatigue hangs in air.
Giant branches stretch out,
trying to embrace me wildly.
Fear stuck I avoid, run,
skip away wading through,
surviving a fantasy I grow.
Looking back, I see a glow,
a pencil of a light catching me up.
I am drawn into you unknowingly.
Succumb ultimately in your mystery.

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