ESCAPIST'S LETTER..

-

It was a serein and not a rain

Covered, they slept

Under the excuse of their inability

To differentiate…..

Selcouth psithurism gently brushed

An elflock, which probably

lacked an existence,

or it might have been an irusu

yet the scarlet of aurora was faded

it was time for everything to be alive

and liveliness was not there in the air..

the reward of me waking up

amidst a sleeping world

was nothing but oneirataxia

a fernweh embraced me

hiding in the mask of anthrophobia

novaturient in my decisions

vividly encouraged by akrasia..

I was then a wayfarer with coddiwomple

Something somewhere, in some corner

was waiting for me

to give it the name of trouvaille 

and also the reason

which made me a noceur was waiting

for me to whelve it ….

I don’t know if they would

Ever come searching for me

Or if they would simply forget

It was going to be uncertain, I had to absquatulate..

 

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