with only a mat and the silence to call her own.A vision, a deity, on a hard wooden floorPoised to greet the moon, in a tryst with the divinity,she fought for her sanity in a world full of anarchy.Things said, things done, sorted and forgotten.deep in contemplation, finds peace once again forgiven.
(c) Poem : Ashvin Mistry 2018Image : AI Microsoft Designer
