Forlorn Alleyways

I’ve left the forlorn alleyways of my dusty little hometown.
Where I used to see the leaves bereft the trees without hitting the ground.
Those alleyways have berated me and yet they were a benediction.
With walls brimming with a myriad of ambiguous graffiti and a street full of creatures torn straight from fiction.

I’ve left the forlorn alleyways of my dusty little hometown.
I travelled down the grass laden lane till I could feel it turning brown.
In a new little village I was in,
Ready to wash away my fears and make no sin.
But then I saw the grim figure of my past mistakes staring at me in awe,
As if wondering where I found the courage to let go of her and everything that I knew, felt and saw.

I’ve left the forlorn alleyways of my dusty little hometown,
A place full of noise and chaos yet completely devoid of sound.
Following the fireflies to a new city of unknowns.
Maybe here I can merge into the crowd whilst staying alone.
Yet it’s a place so full of sadness, gloom and frowns,
That even with a will of iron I couldn’t settle down.

But I’ve left the forlorn alleyways of my dusty little hometown,
Not to find a place to hide but to finally start living right.
Yet I can see the grim figure still behind me like a shadow.
Thousands of miles I’ve walked to part with it but it doesn’t seem to go.

So I let go of the thought of parting with it,
Because I know running away from my past will consume me bit by bit.
But then I see it turn static, collapsing into a colossal wreckage.
And in its inevitable self-destruction, it took down my unbreakable cage.

Now I’m free to roam the forlorn alleyways of the world.
To find a place truly not meant for words.

~Megha Bhartiya πŸ’œ

Β©inksoakedsoul.wordpress.com

Daily Prompt Word – Forlorn

Daily Prompt Word – Static

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15 thoughts on “Forlorn Alleyways

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  1. Madame Nostalgia 😭. But so My Madame wrote so beautifully πŸ˜„. I framed these words : ” Woody and tall , it was a grand and immersive sight , shooting through the falls , was a rainbow , sparring all the colours so bright , slipping the grasses , I hear the sweet want in line , this , My MADAME’S poem , this gravitated me to a time fully bestowed with sweet and a beautiful rhyme πŸ˜„πŸ˜Š”

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      1. Pacing through the time , she is a bright rising star , leading through the door ways , she is the Leader in each class , thinking about somebody , while she is dead working and growing for the sparse , she still is calm and strikes the best in every angle she Mars . Fading in the winds of travasity , she blows a current of calmness even in the cold commands , perhaps Madame’s beauty reflects in every of her work art , it catches to all the touch my heart β€οΈπŸ˜ŠπŸ˜„” I have no longing of words to stop on my Madame’s beautiful write πŸ˜„πŸ˜Š

        Liked by 1 person

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