Spring In Me .

Spring In Me .


Ebony is turning to brown ,
Somewhere in me I see a happy frown.
Away from the chills and winter fight,
Just an ember I need to ignite.

To blanket on my scars ,
Fireflies will be my stars.
Yes , my blooms are missing,
Don’t forget , my roots are living .

Beacons will feed him,
And green upto the rim .
Gusts of glee and the rills of rapture ,
I’ll hold , I’ll fill and I’ll capture .

Inside his teensy-weensy eyes,
You’ll see an oasis vast and wide .
Not from the land of his dreams ,
He’ll bloom from the visionary rheme .

With the primness spring ,
His heart is rebounding like a spring .
Bumblebees around his fist ,
Because he’s blooming down his wrist .

-Yash Mainali

Spread the love
Yash Mainali
Doesn't matter how many new blooms are there. Feeling for the very first one is totally conserved. No other can replace the feel of essence in prime florescence I had for.

Submit a Comment

  • You may also like