Skin

The weight of its wetness stretched across the skin on her face, seemed unbearable.
It is always the skin,
after the heart and the eyes are soaked,
soaked with thoughts, pain, weariness!

The skin is next in queue,
the next destination for the pain!
The pain raining on once sun-bathed land,
the land of glow and blooming happiness.

The skin is paled with gloominess & unending storms,
the burdened clouds of the heart are now free of the weight,
& the skin is soaked with its wetness.

But dear,
it will dry soon, it is not the end of the land!
It is a resurrection, a renaissance of a new, better, beautiful time.
It is a boon for a new bloom.

 

A instant poem I wrote, with first line as a prompt, for an application for a writing academy. So, just sharing one of my quickest creations. (Btw I got in!!!!)

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