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Yet Another October 🍁

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Yet another October Y ellow , Orange, Red The colours of autumn it is Every poet lurks to ink them with their profound words... October resonates peace My words finally spread its wings And fly to it's poetic sense Sometimes e voking it's  lonely presence Yet another time brushing  off  the  sudden energy Whatever it might be the colours of my October are fading The leaves are fading into   the setting evening light Red is turning orange Orange changed to yellow And yellow to bleak white The perspective of colours ,  they say Shading reflects perspective Perhaps my crayon isn't that steady to ink colours in my pages anymore Maybe my October is loosing it's colour Maybe my October is in a wavering  timeline  Maybe I'm no more that October
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A scent it is... ☕

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  A scent it is For years, it lingers...   The freshly mowed grass fills the air,   Yet the mind recalls a distant green  The rain drizzles the night over  Yet the heart drowns in another rain  The body dances in ethereal pleasure  Yet the soul relishes in another delicacy.  A scent it is For years , it unravels the numbness of a death It is the last sense that may feel a presence Yet know the depth of that absence It is the light of a bizare hope Yet the weight of a reality It is the abode of living bonds Yet is a reminiscence of decay A scent it is For years, it sits in a moment A forgotten breath Yet the air that lingers An ache to hold Yet a touch to that bruise A voice that echoes Yet the footsteps fall still At last a scent it is For years, it gathered essence An artist's last vision Yet the end of a muse A poet's last line Yet the beginning of another poem A creator's last brick Yet the making of a universe. ~@anu__anil
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The Last Leaf

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                                                                On a random day In the spring of a   child I saw a tree filling   my cheerful existence   Those were the days when my smile reached my eyes I relished in the petrichor of rain, The drizzles , the bustles, and hustles of seasons And in the epitome of a spring morning Its leaves brought joy to my senses But , It could no longer bear the falling standards of my spirit , The   essence of my childish acts Turned to be the insecurities of my blooming years   And soon it turned into scars of my ripeness   The fruits got bugged The leaves lost its colour I waited and waited , Until the day the last leaf fell from the tree Announcing my autumn….      
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