I am the escapist,
Who drinks potion of surrealism
From the goblet of a cold fossilized life
And runs aloud touching the fence of wind.
...
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ultimate fate can we escape? ? And sings lullabies to the crescent moon.. I love this line in your poem. very poetic. t hank you. tony
Perhaps somewhere down the line we are all escapists. But indeed we cannot, by any means, escape our ultimate fate... A very, very well-written poem Sanjukta...
This poem presents a surrealistic picture! Here I see incongruous juxtaposition of out of the ordinary images! 'Drinking from the goblet of fossilized life' suggests much! Profound write Sanjukta! A 10
Never wants to escape death's call - your faith is great, Sanjukta!
when it comes no one knows just be ready to open the door lovely read-10
Well envisioned the black and blue rainbows of civilisation, yet longing for death's call. A poem with deep meaning. Thanks for sharing
Another creative write of your. Thanks for sharing