Echo.
When sounds do not make echo and get absorbed elsewhere.
When shadows wander silently and get thinner and thinner.
I turn to myself
to my Soul.
Then echoes I make
Shadows I knit.
With the dreams scattered
And with the mirror broken in pieces
I reconstruct one
Sonorous and lively than echo.
Quaid Uz Zaman
(C) All Rights Reserved. Poem Submitted on 08/05/2020
Poet's note: about life and living.power and purity.
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