Blossoms and Dusts

The season of blossoms appears in innumerable lights

Soaked in dyes of gray, black, hues and eccentric whites

Encouraged by showers of merriments for the heart’s cry

Subsequently whitewashed all nourishments to dead dry

Marred by sharp scratches and wounded in deep dents

Clutched in difficult bonds yet hurt by sentiments

No reasoning or viable rationality for the outbreak

No reason to even treason or any apparent heartbreak

Alas still a mood overwhelmed in several ambiguities

Fighting for a chance in peace and relive serenities

The fall that went cold and then sprung up to warm

Did no good seemingly just simmering more harm

Yet no harm done, no sickness revealed in transparence

Barring a breakdown the instincts gained cadence

With newfound sensibilities that weren’t there any

And the deepest lessons from the endless journey

A sense was born beyond the five we all sought after

And it was akin to the divine purity of holy water

Not one distressed look yet ruptured all the inside

Not a dry, broken leaf but painted greens beside

No darkness in sight but even sun was soaked gray

Not the inevitable but the shock of destiny astray

The feeling of stressed nerves and jittery muscles

Convoluted in a potion mightier than Godly hustles

Nothing left to express in all the mighty and stillness

Only remains of dust that flew along proved timeless