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The Poetic Ghost

To write about death and sadness,

you need to kiss the darkness within.

They had told me that there is a world

where I will go after my death if I am not good

they forgot to tell me, that the world exists amidst us.

Year 2020 opened that door for me, 

when I saw the face of death

the numbers which danced each day,

the dark clouds, the bombing and the escapade.

Those stories which I wrote with the darkest ink to keep the page empty.

Those poems which I read while sipping wine for my sanity.

Now with half the year gone already, the darkness has become the 

other side of the moon, which waits for me like an unexplored territory.

All I need is few words to burn the night,

so that those ghosts don’t cling to me.

But each night I need to sit with

the poetic ghosts quietly.

By Priyanka Srivastava



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