#writer-in

[yennamalli]

I am alive.

Born mute for three seasons,Crayons alighted life for a reason, Mythical chariot of friends with love,Never setting sun in the blissed hues,Time rolled a new tender from a binder, Cautious, yet delicate its ticking sliders, At every bends it carves an intricate boulder, Every stone every mile was from the shoulder, Silent, it was like a mute spectator with a spectacles, Waving a waxing tied time…