Muted Hours

Sometimes my verses
Get sentenced into a muted click
Muted mind sits sombre
Scratching the head to grey
What next
Somebody recommended dying
Meant to me the other way
And I'm fastened in the dark-lands
To escape, my tardy mind
Thinks, thinks, thinks
A shearing spark..
Outwits
I'm relieved

poem by Indira Renganathan
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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