Introvert

Past the oak of the tree,

through the green of the leaves,

they transit, birds eye view has us watching all the colours bleed,

fade into one another so we can take a sigh of relief,

I will decide a little later,

can I first just retreat into my own nature,

let’s not just accept,

without any context,

this whole play was to break away,

from the white noise and find space,

where predators do not prey,

and leeches do not leech,

no one speaks,

as no one is there,

in that place where you can become aware.

Faatima

 

 

 

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