Ashes of rust gardens
pull into ears and earthen eyes
the shared bafflement
of wounded and worn,
and lost among the roads is
another passage to inferno –
we claim ourselves as descendants
of the love torn Pluto,
and are chasing the rings of Saturn.

Often than not we reel
to our gaunt expressions –
a pair of signs
in the middle of an escape,
persuading passers-by to alter steps
so we may discover
color of the pawns and
the slayed who have come to
stand between the differences of rites
and declarations of the crystal-spaced sound


© Prateek Joshi and WordPress, 2019
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