Would you think I’m bizarre if I told you I believe in magic,
In miracles, in insanity, in a streak of light that, out of nowhere, can manage to bust the vacuum, acerbic –
And string together syllables unsaid, into an anthem I can lilt to,
While seeping in, a fragrance, that’d burn my insecurities and every last trace of rue,
Transforming my fears, into illusions insipid and engulfing their darkness into a void unseen,
Filling my soul, with the colours of a million orchids, and painting my being in insoluble iridescent sheen,
Enchanting my greying sky, into a silver of hope, and sunshine, and rainbows glistening with luminous drops of dew,
Leaving behind laughter, and dreams, and a penchant for beginnings I might want to look forward to?


Author: Annapurani Vaidyanathan

I hoard books for a living. And read them too, when I am not sleeping. I express what I think, so my unheard feelings don't sink. I like to sing when I walk, to keep shades grey, at bay. I speak like a dork, but I don't want to drive anyone away. I write what's real, and nothing fake, so visit my blog whenever you need a break ;)

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