Dead thoughts, like bones in catacombs deep,
pile up, a festering decay in my brain.
Pushing, shoving, surfacing briefly,
then drowning in the deep recesses.
Can I hush the tempest of my inner world?
and find my own Dwarka – serene and bright.
#NaPoWriMo Day 28 Prompt
Three sentences, six lines: statement, question, conclusion.
prachi jain 