what paradise?

what paradise?

this  w h i t e,
is snow, no more,
it is my shroud.

i wait and wait
and  w a i t.
springs don’t arrive
nor does  l i f e.
but the fallen do
death does.
death, death,
and just  d e a t h
all my seasons are the fall
and just  d e a t h  falls.

these beads do not move.
my fingers now have turned c o l d.
i cannot count the dead anymore.


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picture credits: Rachana Karri

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