A Broken Bench Of Weathering Wood

Where we once spun the yarns of fall
And the musing of a longlost spring
There stands alone like a last recall
A dead log living a live longing!

A bunch of nails that tethered them
Much like the Christ of Bethlehem
Still holds on to that profound pain
Which will be him to ever remain!

Where titters broke the zephyr’s mirth
And tears baptized those solemn eves
A memory strayed to heart from hearth
Love is a fear only faith believes!

A myriad memories bears its heart
There stands a tomb where a shrine once stood
O’er symphony of yearning Mozart
A Broken Bench Of Weathering Wood!

© 2023 Vikas Chandra

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