By Khushi Singh

The door to the heart
Is still left ajar,
In the hope that there will be shine,
In the dark skies.

The never-ending nights,
Are still sleepless.
Hoping for lullabies,
From an altruistic soul.
To get a sound nap,
Far away from the crestfallen world.

The beat inside is still barricaded,
From the mesmerising rhythm.
Trying to barge,
The poignant past.

The boulevards are still lifeless,
Waiting for a wayfarer.
To solve the labyrinth,
Of the pesky journey.

The stars in the great dark sky are still waiting,
For an enlivened energy.
To fathom them,
Into constellations.

Khushi Singh, a high-school student, is a reader by day and writer by the night, who tells story through poetry.


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